Colossal Mistakes and Tiny Miracles
by scatteredlight
Summary: AU Nathan Haley, friends to lovers to exfriends to more? story.
1. Prologue

**Colossal Mistakes and Tiny Miracles**

**Prologue – _The Exponential Growth of Dissatisfaction_**

Once upon a time, in a small, somewhat peaceful town by the sea lived a young girl and a young boy. They were the best of friends. They grew up together, relying on each other and trusting each other with their very lives. And the funny thing is, they each, even at the youngest part of their friendship, held this trust and reliance that the other had for them in the highest regard. They would do anything for each other.

And perhaps that is where the problems begin. Sometimes, when a boy and a girl love each other so much, that in and of itself can cause problems. It did in this case, I am sad to report. You see, the girl loved the boy just a little more than she should have. Oh, she knew that her love was too much, and she was very careful not to let him know the full scope of it, but in the end, it still ruined everything.

From the day they met in elementary school – she defended him from bullies, by the way – they were inseparable. A better friend neither had, a better friend neither could want. But perhaps, just perhaps, that is where the problems began.

You see, she loved him in a way that went beyond friendship, which is all that he felt for her. And that hurt her and subsequently hurt their friendship. It sustained nicely through elementary school, when her crush was just that, an innocent little crush. Something undeniable and intangible, but there nonetheless. It flourished in middle school when he became popular and she began to hero worship him as he moved into the spotlight, leaving her in the dark. And in high school, when she dated the occasional guy from her advanced placement classes and he slept every cheerleader to wear the uniform for four years, they were as close as ever.

But her crush and hero worship, once so innocent and unimposing became a focus. And she was jealous. Jealous of the girls that he was sleeping with, and even a little jealous of all the attention he was getting that she wasn't. She did her best not to let it affect her, and she actually was fairly successful in this regard. He never knew how much she hated what he was doing, how he was living his life, and he certainly never knew that she hated it because she wanted him for herself.

No, it was in college that a sense of distance appeared between the two. That was when he started to feel it, too. It startled him; for he had been so oblivious to nearly everything but his own life that he felt like this was very out of the blue. Like a sucker punch to the gut, in some ways. She didn't say anything about it, though, and so he followed her lead and kept his mouth shut, too.

It became glaringly, painfully obvious to him, though, that something – maybe many things – had changed between them. By their senior year, despite the fact that they shared an apartment, the distance was fairly great. It scared him, but from what he could tell, she either didn't notice or didn't care. Besides, she had her friends, and he had basketball and his girlfriend. She was younger; 18, and a young 18 at that. He didn't care, though. She hero-worshipped him, and made him feel big and strong and important.

And his friend didn't anymore. He didn't know what to make of that. The girl, while seeming outwardly happy and sunny, was a bit of a mess inside. Oh, she wasn't the type of girl that would base her whole existence around a boy – she's not that silly. But the gradual loss of his friendship had taken its toll, and she was different inside. Stronger, more mature, and much, much more independent than she'd ever been before. And he noticed all of this, and he wasn't exactly sure what to make of it, how to deal with it.

Some would call it cowardly, their method of non-dealing, but they considered it self-preservation.

It was very much as if they didn't know each other anymore. That scared both of them, to varying degrees. Perhaps to your surprise, it scared him quite a bit more than it scared her. Perhaps she'd had the time to prepare herself for this eventuality that he hadn't, and so it didn't catch her off-guard. Heck, perhaps she'd even come to anticipate the day that things blew up in their faces, throwing their entire world off-kilter.

But then again, how do you anticipate something like that?


	2. The NonBreak Up Break Up

**Chapter One – _The Non-Break Up Break Up_**

"Great," I mutter to myself as I see him approaching me with _her_ on his arm. Of course she's on his arm. Where the hell else would she be? She is clearly a leech or a parasite that can only survive when it has a host body to hang out on, sucking dry its resources.

"Haley," he grins as they make their way toward me. Seriously, I'm in a crowded football stadium watching a concert. It doesn't even make sense that they would find me here. I have bad luck.

"Hey Nathan, hey Susie." A baby name for the baby, I can't help but mentally taunt. I actually feel a little bad for it because despite her age and the fact that she dresses like – and probably still plays with – Barbie dolls, she really is a sweet, nice girl.

"Hi Hales," she bubbles, borrowing the nickname that my _friends_ have given me. I shouldn't let it, but it really bothers me that she does that.

"What are you guys up to?" I ask, not interested, but not rude enough to summarily dismiss them, either.

"Besides waiting for the concert to start?" Nathan chuckles, pointing over my shoulder to the stage being set up behind me.

"Yeah, besides that," I agree, turning back to the game. They move to stand alongside me, and Nathan places a friendly arm around my shoulder.

"Where's your not as awesome as me other half?" he wonders aloud, referring to Brooke, the closest and most unlikely friend I've made at college.

"She's at the concession getting nachos and pop or something," I tell him as casually as possible. "She thinks we're going to the bar tonight, so apparently we need sustenance in the meantime."

"You're going out tonight?" he asks with a pout.

I nod. "Yeah, Brooke has a crush on one of the football players, so she found out which bar he likes. So, we are now on a stalking mission tonight," I sum up.

"Wow, so I have a basketball player," Susie chimes in, "And Brooke will have a basketball player. I guess you'll need, like, a baseball player, Hales!"

Nathan bursts out laughing, apparently at the thought of me with an athlete. "Thanks," I mutter at him with a glare.

"Aw, come on, Hales. It's funny!" he exclaims, nudging me when my look stays sour. "You've professed your disdain for athletes for so long now that you have to figure you'll get teased about it once in awhile."

"Yeah, if I was so disdainful towards athletes, then what am I doing hanging out here with you?" Both Susie and Nathan look surprised by the vehemence and anger in my voice.

"Geez, calm down, it was just a joke," Nathan sighs, running a hand through his hair. I curse myself for bringing the tension between us to the forefront again after we'd both tried so hard to bury it.

"I'm so sorry, Haley," Susie apologizes, "I didn't mean to offend you. It wasn't even a joke, just sort of a, um, commentary, I guess."

"I know," I tell her, letting out a ragged breath, "I know you didn't mean anything by it. And I'm sorry for getting so snippy."

Nathan doesn't say anything even as Susie acknowledges my apology and begins chattering about a couple of her classes. Instead, he just stares hard at me, almost willing me to tell him what's going, why I've put this wall up between us. The intensity behind his stare makes me a little nervous, and I know that even after all we've been through, when he looks at me, he still sees so much more than the average person does.

"So, you're really going out tonight?" Nathan asks with a sigh, "Are you sure you want to? It looks like bad weather. It's warm now, but look at those clouds."

Confused, I shrug. "I don't know, its fine out now. Besides, it'll be fun, and Brooke swears up and down that a lot of really likeable people will be there."

He sighs again. "I guess that means you don't want to hang out with me," he mutters sardonically, "I thought it'd be fun since we haven't done that in forever."

"You've been busy getting ready for the draft and me for med school," I point out, wondering where this is coming from. Since he started dating Susie, he hasn't asked me to hang out once. I'm almost tempted to brush off Brooke and stay with him, until Susie opens her big mouth.

"Yeah, I can't hang out tonight," Susie jumps in, "So I told Nathan he should hang out with you to keep the girls away."

I think Nathan realizes right away how irritated I am by her comment, and that I'm not stupid enough to think he actually wants to hang out with me – he's just got no one better. I get that.

"And I haven't had the chance to hang with you lately, Hales, come on, stay with me tonight." He looks at me with such a sad look that I'd probably acquiesce if I didn't already know he only wants me around because he doesn't have anything better to do.

"Sorry, Nathan," I say dully, not wanting to let him know how much his brushing off hurts, "But I can't back out on Brooke like that."

"God, Haley, I'm asking you for one night of your time!" he exclaims as Susie looks away – other people are also starting to stare at us. "You see Brooke all the damn time, and you can't cancel one night? One measly, lame night?"

"Go to hell," I ground out, frustrated beyond belief with him and his attitude.

Brooke comes bounding down the stairs at this moment, saving me from the embarrassment of blurting out something stupid to Nathan. Which is always entirely possible, but with her here as a buffer, it lessens.

"Nathan and Nathan's girlfriend," she greets, even though she knows Susie's name.

"Bitch," Nathan greets back, rolling his eyes at her. It's sort of ironic that he dislikes her so much when she is so similar to at least half of the girls he's slept with – bubbly, funny, gorgeous.

"Hi Brooke," Susie greets easily, and it makes me really wonder about myself that I could hate someone as damn nice as her.

"Yeah, hi," Brooke nods at her before giving me a look clearly asking why they're here. I shrug as subtly as possible at her, and sit down. "So, here's the coke, Haley," she says, handing me a large cup that is half-empty. I roll my eyes at her completely unsubtle hint but do her bidding and fill the cup the rest of the way with the pint of rum I've got stashed in the pocket of my sweatshirt.

"Gosh, you could get kicked out for that," Susie tells us, wide eyed.

"Gee, really?" Brooke mocks, rolling her eyes, "We fucking know that. We just choose not to get all bent out of shape over it. Besides, it's a concert, and we're here to have fun."

"Oh, okay," Susie shrugs, grabbing at Nathan's arm. He leans down and kisses her, and it is all I can do not to turn away and make gagging motions at Brooke. Nathan pulls back, and his eyes lock with mine over her shoulder. I glance away first, not able to stand the heat of his gaze.

"Uh, we're going to go," Nathan informs us, and I just nod at him. "If you change your mind, I'll be around the apartment."

I nod again, dumbly. "I won't, but thanks anyway."

"Well, the offer stands," he repeats, and I feel like a bit of an ass for being so obstinate with him, but it hurts to know the main reason he even asked is just because his girlfriend won't be around for an evening.

"What was that all about?" Brooke asks when they're finally gone.

"Oh, Nathan invited me to hang out with him tonight, but Susie stuck her foot in her mouth and basically admitted it was only because she was busy. Oh, and that she doesn't want him hanging around 'girls', so apparently that makes me something other than. Although, I know she didn't mean it that way."

"Huh," Brooke mutters, taking a sip of the rum and coke, "Well, I'm sorry he's such an ass sometimes. I know you, you know."

"Yeah, well, what can you do?" I respond, grabbing the cup away from her and chugging.

"Tell him to fuck off," she suggests cooly, "I mean, come on, Haley! Why do you let him treat you like such crap? You're totally the third wheel of his life, and you let him do that to you!"

I shrug, unable to counter her statement. "Maybe, but he's my friend. He's been my friend since we were six. That's going back a long way," I reason.

"So what?" she laughs, "My ex-friend Peyton? Yeah, remember her? She and I were friends since pre-school, but once she dicked me over, that all ended. You don't have to stay friends with someone just because you peed in their swimming pool at some point."

"Okay, ew. And second of all, that's different. You two liked the same boy, she won, and you've held a grudge ever since. I don't think Nathan and I have ever liked the same boy."

She rolls her eyes at me. "Whatever. You know what I'm saying. Sometimes it is just, I don't know, necessary, I guess, to cut loose the dead weight. And I'm sorry, I know how important he is to you, but Nathan is your dead weight."

"I don't see how that's possible," I argue, "I mean, we've been best friends forever. And yeah, things are strained right now, but we'll get passed it. We always have."

"Well, your funeral," she says blithely, "I mean, well, you know what I mean. Just be careful, okay? Because he has the power to hurt you more than anyone else in your life, and I'm just afraid that something is going to happen and he does."

I give her a hug before taking another long swig of the rum and coke. I can feel my cheeks heating from the beverage, and it feels kind of nice. "Thanks, Brookie, I know you always mean the best."

"You're damn right," she agrees, grabbing the cup away from me. "And we are damn well going to have fun tonight, and you are going to forget all about Asshole and Asshole's girlfriend. Hey, let's get all dressed up!"

"Brooke, you're always dressed up," I point out. She smirks and shrugs, and I infer right away that she means me, and not her. "No, no way. I'm not letting you hoochie me up again, Davis. No way, no how."

She smiles impishly, and I know I'm not going to get out of this one. And maybe, in some ways, at least, I don't want to. Maybe a part of me wants to show Nathan that I can be just as attractive as the various girls he's dated over the years, and that he doesn't have to be so callous when it comes to overlooking me. Why I feel the need to rub that in his face now of all times is beyond me, though.

"Fine," I acquiesce, figuring it'll be easier to let her know now that I'm open for whatever tonight, "I can let you dress me up for one night. One night only, though."

She snorts oh so indelicately. "Girl, please. Like you don't dress borderline hooch anyway. I'm just going to push you over the edge."

"Yeah, that'll be fun," I tell her as I roll my eyes.

"You'll love it," she guarantees, as we settle in to cheer for our team the rest of the game.

Once the game is over, we head back to Brooke's apartment, probably because neither of us feel any great need to be around Nathan right now, and also because she has way more going out clothes than I do.

"Here, try this," she tells me as she stumbles over a shoe on the floor. We're both more than a little buzzed right, giggly and losing coordination fast as we continue drinking.

"That looks so good on you, Haley," she smiles once I have it, such as 'it' is, on. The outfit is cute, if a little racier than what I'd normally wear. But I'm feeling daring and maybe even a little dangerous tonight, so what Brooke has put together is so much more fitting.

She's got me in a denim mini with a black, back baring halter top. Its early fall, but it is chilly out, so I'm wearing a black leather jacket of hers that match my knee high leather boots pretty perfectly. She's also piled a crapload of silver jewelry accented with crystals that I hope like hell are fake. All in all, it is a little flashier than I'm normally into, but its fun and I kind of honestly like it.

"So, we look great," she grins, coming up behind me in the mirror. She looks hot in a flashy red mini dress that will catch a ton of other guys' eyes, if not that of the football player she is after.

"We sure do," I agree, turning around and giving her an impulsive hug. I think sometimes I don't let Brooke know how much I appreciate her and all of the very many things she does for me on a regular basis.

"What was that for?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at me, "Because I know I look hot, and I know I've been prone to kissing other girls when I'm drunk, but I don't think I'm interested."

"That was for being such a great friend, that's all. It wasn't a come on," I laugh, even as I roll my eyes at her genuine conceit. Hell, if I was her, and had her confidence, I'm sure I'd be conceited, too.

"Oh," she blinks, nonplussed, "Well, I do what I can."

"You do more than you'll ever know," I smile, not complaining when she starts straightening my hair. I sort of dig the messy, wild curls look, but Brooke is more of a smooth, sleek look person.

"Well, you ready to go?" she chirps, ignoring my sentimentality, which is probably better since we're both so caked in makeup we put mimes to shame.

"Yeah, I'm ready," I smile, grabbing the small purse I'm taking and following her out the door. "You better not forget me when you get Mr. Hot Shot football player groveling at your feet," I warn her.

"Hey, I'm not Asshole, right? I'm not going to ditch you for a boy toy, Hales. I'm just a little better than that, don't you think?"

"Yeah, because I won't let you," I return, sharing her smile.

The bar is wildly insane, of course, seeing that the football team won today and everyone here is a player or, well, I guess a groupie trying to land a player. By default, I guess if all into the latter category.

"There. He. Is." Brooke announces, pausing lengthily between each word. "Oh, my God, I think I'm getting wet – "

"Brooke!" I exclaim, "I don't need to know that! God, I don't think anyone here needs to know that little tidbit!"

She just laughs, never one to shy away from a little audacity. "Oh, come on, you have to admit that is one gorgeous male, and you know, if I'm not mistaken, he'd look even more gorgeous with a little me hanging on his arm." She winks at me and wanders off.

I'm of half a mind to take off without her, but I know that would tick her off and I'd get a lecture tomorrow on how I need to stop being lame and start having fun. Yeah, she's more concerned with whether or not my social life is active than whether or not I've ditched her at a bar where she doesn't really know anyone. Go figure.

I stay for awhile, even letting myself have fun dancing with a couple of the football players. I bump into a few guys from the basketball team that I know through Nathan, and I sit and drink with them for awhile. They're fun and rowdy, and aside from the initial 'where's Scott?', we don't talk about him at all, which suits my purposes fine.

They keep me laughing for about an hour before I decide I've had enough fun and that Brooke won't bitch at me for leaving. I give her a hug, and she commends me for staying so long even though I wanted to go home. She decides to stay, of course, having made progress with her football player, whom she promises me she'll introduce me to later.

I drank just enough that it seems like a good idea to call a cab, and so I'm back to the apartment even quicker than anticipated. The lights are out, and I'm relieved that I won't have to face Nathan now, but disappointed that I won't get to see him, talk to him. There is something seriously perverse in how I feel about things with him, but at least I know it. That's something, I suppose. Or so I tell myself.

I stumble around in the dark, dropping my keys and purse on the small table in the kitchen noisily. I kick my shoes off, and shrug the heavy leather jacket off onto a nearby chair. The lights flicker on, and I nearly let out a scream as I whirl around in surprise.

"God, Nathan, you about gave me a heart attack!" I gasp, taking in his bare chest.

"And I bet you caused a lot of guys some major blood flow issues tonight," he returns, letting his eyes roam up and down my body in this way that manages to make me feel simultaneously hot and cold.

"Nathan," I say in a warning tone, but he ignores me, moving closer.

"What? It's true. Look at you, in that almost shirt. Hell, my blood is rushing south right as I stand here talking to you," he smirks, and I fight the urge to glance 'south' and see for myself.

"Whatever," I spit out in as dismissive a tone as I can muster, "What are you doing up so late, anyway?"

"Can't a best friend wait up and make sure you get home okay?" he asks in a snide voice. I choose not to answer, so he lets out a sigh. "Look, Markus and Stevens called, said they'd ran into you at the bar, and that you refused a ride with them. They wanted to make sure you were alright, and so did I. Is that so surprising?"

"From them?" I retort, "No, but you? Yeah, a little surprising these days. I think the last time you mustered concern for me was probably a year ago. Let's not get overly rose-colored about the recent past, okay?"

"That's bullshit and you know it," he sighs, running a hand angrily through his hair, "If I stopped showing outright concern for you it was only because you obviously didn't want it! Everything I do in terms of you feels wrong these days, and you make me feel like a leper, you're so cold towards me!"

"Wow, I don't even know where to start with that," I gape at him, wrapping my arms around myself in a protective hugging gesture.

"Come off it, Hales! We both know that you've just, God, pulled away from me! It's like you don't even want to be my friend anymore, which is your prerogative, right? But have the fucking balls to say it to my face!"

"I don't want to stop being your friend," I assure him in a whisper. His face is such a mixture of anger and hurt that I can hardly bare to look his way. "I'm sorry."

As the tears pool in my eyes, I see him moving closer to me until I feel his arms wrap around me. "Shh," he whispers as I dissolve into tears, "Its okay, Hales, I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"I deserved it," I assure him, "I don't know why I've been so distant with you lately, but for what it is worth, I am sorry, Nathan. I hate that I've hurt you."

"Yeah, me too," he agrees, chuckling. I unfold my arms from around myself and throw them around him. "Its okay, Hales. But, um, maybe you could tell me what's going on, or something?" he asks, uncertainty and hesitation creeping into his voice.

"I – " I begin, hesitating. I can't tell him, there's just no way. I know this, and so I clam up. "I don't know," I sigh, and I feel his arms tense around me – he knows I'm lying, and he knows that I know that, too.

"Hales, you're my best friend – God, you're my _family_! You can tell me anything, and I'm going to be here for you. I promise. I don't believe in a lot of things, especially people, but you, I believe in you. Hell, I believe in us, Hales."

I hug him tighter, clinging to him for dear life. The tension in his arms subsides, but his grip on me doesn't. "I believe in you, too, Nathan." I can't tell him I believe in 'us', because in all honesty, I don't think I do anymore. There are just too many variables and outside factors to believe in something like that anymore.

He obviously recognizes my omission as he pulls away from me. I can see it on his face and in the rigid way he's holding himself. He does smile tightly at me, though, and that gives me hope that maybe, just maybe, we can get through all of this shit sooner than later.

"I'm sorry I hurt you and that I've been so distant lately," I reiterate to him, really needing him to believe it.

"Yeah, I know, Hales," he agrees, giving me another hug. He pulls back, a huge grin on his face. "You know, you really are hot in that little get-up," he grins, winking at me.

I smack him on the shoulder. "How come I didn't get a date then?" I ask, mock pouting at him.

"Probably because you were hanging out with the morons from the basketball team," he points out, "And what guy in his right mind is going to approach you when you've got them lumbering around you? They aren't exactly the most un-intimidating people on campus."

"Well, they were fun to hang out with. How come you never bring them around?" I ask, suddenly curious.

"I don't know," he shrugs, and again, my eyes are drawn to his really gorgeous, smooth, _defined_ chest.

"You aren't embarrassed by me, are you?" I ask, mostly teasing. In high school, though, there were times when I was just too different from his friends for him to bring them around me. Mostly for my sake, but probably for his, too. I guess that still worries me to this day.

He rolls his eyes. "Not in the least. Actually, I've always worried that they'd get out of hand and do something to shock you. I don't know, I guess that's not really applicable anymore, is it?" he remarks, gesturing to my barely there shirt before hugging me again.

I pull away from him slowly, savoring the feel of his hand on my bare back as it slides off. By accident or intention, his hand grazes over my butt, and I have to fight the urge to jump into his arms. He'd probably shove me away as quickly as possible, or worse, laugh like a madman at my pathetic need for him. Any way you cut it, it wouldn't be pretty.

He gives me a small, vaguely sad smile as I back away from him. I nod, unable to reciprocate, and escape to the relative safety of my room, closing the door tight behind me. Being so near him has gotten me worked up, so it really is important for me that I get away from him and get some breathing room.

Why I am so weak when it comes to him, well, I doubt I'll ever know. There is just no rational explanation for it. He's just a man, no, a boy. Yeah, if I tell myself that enough times, maybe then I'll believe it. Of course, all the internal sarcasm in the world won't do shit for me now, so I might as well be honest with myself – I'm in love with him, or at least the fantasy I have of him.

The thing is, it isn't really that much of a fantasy. For other girls that he's dated, yeah, they probably think the side of Nathan that I see is a fantasy because he won't let them see it. He won't let them in the way he lets me in. And in the end, it is probably that very thing that has me so wrapped up in him, so in love with him.

And that's not his fault, and it certainly shouldn't be his problem. No, this is my deal, my issue, my fault, and of course, my problem. He shouldn't have to suffer the swings between high and low in terms of how I treat him constantly, but that's what I'm doing to him these days. I know this, and I'm sure he knows this, too.

I just wish things were a little different now – nothing like a dream of the impossible, right? If I could have things my way, Nathan would pay less attention to other girls and more to me. Hey, it's my dream, I can be selfish in it. I just have to stop carrying that trait over into the real world.

A soft knock on the door nearly stops my heart, and I jump again when he calls my name quietly.

"Just a minute," I reply, letting him know I'm not sleeping yet. I take a few deep breaths and smooth my hair back from my face before moving to answer the door. "Hey," I murmur, trying to smile at him.

"Hey," he replies, a much easier smile on his face.

"Um, did you need something?" I question when he doesn't say anything other than 'hey'. The nervousness I felt earlier around him is back tenfold, and his intense perusal is not helping matters, either.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright," he tells me, his voice low and husky and oh so sexy. "Are you?"

"I – yeah, Nathan, I'm fine," I respond, shaking my head in a futile attempt to snap myself out of this little reverie. "Do you have reason to suspect otherwise?"

"Well, I know that you've been upset with me, and I know you said things were fine earlier. I just wanted to make sure," he finishes with a shrug.

"I am fine. Everything is fine," I assure him.

"Liar," he corrects me, no heat in his voice, though. I look up at him in surprise. He laughs a laugh that is humorless and tinged with something resembling bitterness. "What? You think we're so out of touch now that I couldn't tell when you were lying? Think again, Hales. I still can see that much in you."

I shake my head at him, staring at the wall to his right. "I didn't think that," I protest, no fight in my voice. That really hits me – I can't even fight him, let alone for him, anymore. Am I giving up?

"Yeah, you did. You thought that, what with all the pushing away you've done to me lately, that I wouldn't know anymore, I wouldn't be able to read you. Well, guess what? I still can," he whispers hotly, stepping closer to me, "I still know you better than I know myself. Does that piss you off, Hales? Are you mad about that?"

"What if I was, Nathan? What fucking difference would it make?" I yell back, upset that he gets it, upset that he's so calm about things, just upset.

"Jesus, Hales," he sighs, stepping back from me. I guess my outburst accomplished one thing, at least. "Look, I don't know what is going on with you or why you're so set on pushing me away, out of your life, but God, if you want me to leave, just tell me! It would have to be easier to take than this."

"I never said I wanted that, Nathan! You're – we've been friends for so long now, I don't – well, it'd be stupid to throw it away."

He shakes his head at me, looking grim. "So, all we are now is roommates based on a long friendship we had in the past? Nice, Hales. Look, I know that I'm busy and not around much, and yeah, I know that even when I am around I'm usually not here for you, but you're still my best friend. It's funny, but I thought time or distance or busy schedules couldn't change that. Guess I was wrong," he gives me one last long look before turning and walking through the doorway and out of my room.

Out of my life? Maybe.

I should've called him back, asked him to stay and hear me out. Finally tell him the truth. I did none of those things, instead let him walk away from me, finally snapping at my callous treatment of him which was partially a reflex to his treatment of me. We've both wronged each other over the last few years, but I'm honest enough to admit that I have done far worse to him than he's ever done to me. And for what? A crush, that's all. And a few sexual fantasies. Things all in my own head.

I couldn't fall asleep for the longest time, lying instead on my bed crying my eyes out. By the time I was done, it was nearly six am, and I could see it beginning to get light outside. When I wake up, the clock is showing nine am, and I groggily crawl out of bed, still clad in the outfit I wore to the bar last night.

My first instinct is to crawl back under the covers when I hear sounds of Nathan moving around out in the living room or kitchen, but I fight it and grab my phone instead. I punch in Brooke's number, belatedly realizing she's probably not there, but off with Mr. Football Hotshot instead. My theory is confirmed once her answering machine picks up.

"Brooke? It's Haley, I need you to call me as soon as you get home, okay? I need a friend," I sniffle out, feeling so lonely it almost hurts to breathe. "Just call, okay? Love you, hope you got lucky."

"At least that would mean one of us has some luck," I mutter after I hang up the phone. Knowing that it'll be easier if I just go out there now, and get this first 'meeting' out of the way, I throw on some decent clothes and pull my hair back into a ponytail. I have raccoon eyes from the crying, and I wipe that off with some eyewash. Once that is done, I'm put together enough that I feel like I can face him, so I cautiously open my door and walk into the living room.

He's in the kitchen cooking when I find him, his back to me. For a minute I don't say anything. Just watch his movements as he maneuvers through the kitchen, not noticing my presence. My heart melts a little when he gets out two plates and fills them both with eggs and bacon and toast. He finally turns towards me, plate in one hand, glass of juice in the other, and notices my present.

"Uh, hey," he says, and I can tell I've caught him by surprise, "I was just coming to give you breakfast."

"Yeah?" I ask, suddenly shy, "That's really nice of you, Nathan."

"Yeah, well, it's my peace offering," he explains, and I look at him in surprise. "Why the surprise? I can be a good person once in awhile."

"It isn't that," I smile, "I know how good you can be. I'm just surprised you think you need to apologize. I was the one who was wrong last night. I treated you badly, and I deserve anything you have to say to me."

He shakes his head. "That's not true at all. If you're having a hard time with something, I should be a good friend, not an asshole to you. Look, I know I'm not available often, but come on, you have to know that anytime you need to talk, I'm on the phone with you. Anytime."

"I know, Nathan."

"Do you?" he questions intently, "Because I wonder sometimes, and I hate that. I never used to have to wonder about you, Hales, but now I do. And that just sucks major ass."

We sit down at the table, and he pushes a plate of food towards me. I smile briefly at him before engaging in eating and avoiding. It is so stupid that I am sitting here across from him, having the perfect opportunity to just tell him the truth, but I don't. Hell, I know I won't.

"You never answered my question," he reminds me a few minutes later when we're both just pushing the remaining food on our plates around with our forks.

"What question?" I ask absently, my mind having wandered away from our previous topics.

He rolls his eyes at me. "The question of whether or not you really know that I'm always here for you, always at most a phone call away."

"Yeah, Nathan, I said I did, right?"

"You said it, but I don't know if you mean it anymore."

"Nathan," I begin warningly, stopping when he holds his hand up.

"No, hear me out, Hales." I nod my consent and sit back in my chair. "Look, I was lying in bed last night after we had our little discussion, and I realized that we never talk anymore. I mean, I barely know what's going on with you, and you probably barely know what's going on with me, aside from the basics, of course. It is almost graduation, and with a little luck I'll be playing in the NBA and you'll be in med school soon. I just don't want things to get weird between us because we're going to need each other, need our friendship."

"That's not true," I argue, "We know plenty about what's going."

"No, we don't," he sighs, "Look, I don't know if there are any guys you're interested in, and I don't know what you and Brooke do when you're constantly hanging out, and I don't know if you've been to any good parties, or if you're having trouble in any of your classes. And I'd bet decent money you don't know those things about me, either."

"Nathan, we don't have to know every single detail of each other's life, right?"

"We used to!" he exclaims, and I can't help but wonder where this is all coming from all of a sudden, considering he could've brought this up at any time over the last year or so.

"It's impossible to know everything, and I'm sure there've been things we haven't talked about in the past, too. We're just busy people, Nathan. Busier than we've ever been, and we're only going to get busier," I tell him, my voice shaky as I push down the hurt that I also feel over the distance.

"So, let's make it a point for this not to happen, okay? Let's schedule Nathan and Haley time, so that we can re-get to know each other."

A genuine smile crosses my face as I register his words. "Yeah? Really? Because I think that would be really awesome, Nathan." As soon as the words are out of my mouth, though, I begin to regret them. My whole purpose in staying away from him has been to either make my crush go away or to hide it from, since it doesn't seem to be going away. Making plans to spend time with him is really counterproductive in this little crush-hiding quest I have.

"Yeah, really," he laughs, "You're my best friend. You've been my best friend for as long as I can remember. Of course I want to spend time with you and find out everything that's going on with you."

"Well," I begin awkwardly, "I'm glad. It'll, uh, be good for us to do that."

"Yeah, it will," he grins, and my heart breaks a little knowing that there probably isn't much good that can come out of this. As far as I can tell, only two things can happen: I snap, and jump his bones, which would inevitably result in him telling me to get lost, or the other option, which is me backing out and avoiding him more, further alienating him. Both options are viable, and both suck in their own special way.

"So, it's a date then," I agree as amiably as I can, trying to shove the anxiety I feel about this under the surface. I wince at my choice of words, but it is a common enough phrase that Nathan doesn't even blink at the ramifications of that word. Like he'd ever apply it to me, anyway.

"Definitely," he agrees.

"Well," I begin again awkwardly, "I'm glad. It'll, uh, be good for us to do that."

"Yeah, it will," he grins, and my heart breaks a little knowing that there probably isn't much good that can come out of this. As far as I can tell, only two things can happen: I snap, and jump his bones, which would inevitably result in him telling me to get lost, or the other option, which is me backing out and avoiding him more, further alienating him. Both options are viable, and both suck in their own special way.

"Well, let me know when a good time for you is," I tell him, backing away trying to get to my room.

"Oh, I will, don't worry, Hales." I smile weakly at him. "Hey Hales? You know I don't bite, right?" I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I'm not sure how to respond to that. "Because you're looking at me like I might. Come on, it hasn't been quite _that_ long since we last hung out, has it?"

"No, I guess not," I smile ruefully – and genuinely.

"Alright, so that's something," he laughs, and I can't help it, I laugh, too. What they say about laughter and contagion really is true, sometimes. At least this time it is. Maybe the stress has finally caught up to me and I'm going insane. Well, it isn't as bad as I thought it would be.

My phone rings suddenly, interrupting what is actually a really nice moment for me. For us. He looks a little miffed at the intrusion, but he shrugs and pastes on a smile motioning for me to get it. I turn slowly and walk to my room, grabbing my phone off the bed.

"Hello?"

"What the hell happened to you last night? You sounded like a lost little girl who got separated from her mommy at the mall," she gripes, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry to sound so pathetic. I just had a shitty night after I left, and I was panicking that I'd have an even shittier morning."

"What'd that little fucker do this time?" she asks, knowing immediately what the problem was.

"He didn't really do anything," I admit with a sigh, "He was just waiting up when I got home, and we got into it. But I guess we've patched things up now. We're going to have a 'friends' night soon, supposedly. I guess he's noticed how strained things are between us."

"Well, it's about time," she blithely points out, "I mean, come on, how dense is he that he's just now figuring it out?"

"It isn't that he hadn't noticed, it's more that he's finally saying sometime, I think," I tell her, rationalizing things.

"Bullshit!" she exclaims, "God, Haley, I love you and everything, but you are pathetic when it comes to him."

"Gee, thanks, Brooke, I can't possibly hear that frequently enough."

"Look, I'm not saying it to be rude, I'm just saying it because it is true, ya know? You put yourself out there for him time and again, and time and again, what does he do? Screws you over, that's what!"

"Come on, Brooke, it isn't like that and you know it."

"What exactly do you think it's like then?" she retorts, her voice tinged with disbelief, "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like he's a jerk who has totally ditched you over the years. And that is coming directly from you, Hales."

I shake my head, wondering how I screwed everything up, even her perception of Nathan. "He's not as bad as you think. As I've made you think," I tell her, "And I was wrong to do that."

"What the hell? I can't believe you're forgetting how bad and how many times he's hurt you, Haley James!"

"It wasn't intentional on his part; not like it was on mine when I hurt him all of these times."

"What are you talking about?" she asks softly.

"I'm talking about the fact that I've purposely pulled away from him, not even being a friend to him, when I knew it would hurt him. When a part of me maybe wanted to hurt him. Definitely did," I amend, knowing better.

"Hales, come on, you're being too hard on yourself."

"What? How is that even possible? I mean, yeah, he doesn't reciprocate my feelings of intense love or lust, but it isn't like he's doing it to hurt me, you know?" She doesn't say anything. "Listen, Brookie, I totally appreciate that you are one hundred percent on my side and all, but I don't deserve it."

"Well, he doesn't deserve your newfound understanding, either," she argues, "I mean, what? He pouts once and all is forgiven? That's lame."

"He didn't do anything that I need to forgive, Brooke," I reason, "I was the one who hurt him, who pushed him away. And it was just out of jealousy."

"Fine," she huffs, "But when he screws you over again, puts you on the back shelf to collect dust, don't say I didn't warn you."

"I wouldn't dream of it," I assure her, laughing. I feel better for having talked to her as well as Nathan. "So, how was your night? Bag the football player?"

"Do I ever fail in my quest for worthy sexual partners?" she giggles back at me.

"So he was worthy?" I ask, shaking my head.

"Have you seen his body? Oh, yeah, he was just as worthy as he looks." Huh, if he were even half as worthy as he looked, he'd be about the worthiest guy ever, so I guess this is a real feat.

"When are you seeing him again?" I ask, guessing she'll say tonight.

"Oh, he's here now, in the shower. I'd have joined him, but I had to call you back. You're a cock blocker and you didn't even know it," she gripes, but I can tell she's not upset.

"Please, like I'm stopping you. Go, have your fun. Tell me all about it later," I instruct her, laughing as she hangs up without saying another word. "So Brooke-ish," I smile to myself as I toss the phone back on the bed.

I crawl back on the bed myself, reaching over only to grab a bottle of aspirin. I'm not drastically hungover, but I can feel a bit of a headache, so I pop a couple. Jumpy, I nearly drop the bottle when Nathan knocks on the door.

"Come on in," I tell him, smiling a little as he walks through the door.

"Hey, how about tonight?"

"Tonight what?" I ask absently, sorting through my textbooks deciding which class to study for first.

"Tonight for us to hang out, the Nathan slash Haley date," he reminds me in a 'duh' voice, "Did you forget already?"

"No, of course not. Sorry, I was just thinking of all this studying I should do; I wasted a lot of time last night, stupidly."

He rolls his eyes at me. "I know you're at least two weeks ahead on reading your assigned chapters, and you've probably got notes typed up and saved on your computer for those chapters, too. Needing to do reading is not going to get you out of hanging out with me tonight, got it?"

"I wouldn't dream of trying," I grin, finally feeling relaxed and happy in his presence again.

"Good, be ready at 7. We're going to a basketball party for a few minutes. I promised the guys I'd stop by, but I also told them we would only stay a few minutes." He looks at me weird for a second. "Did you know that Justin has a crush on you?" he asks about the center on his basketball team like it is the oddest thing in the world, "I mean, he's smarter than I give him credit for, I guess."

I laugh when he winks at me. "Oh, Scott, you saved yourself on that one."

"Yeah, I'm good, aren't I?" he grins, clearly proud of himself. "So, did you know he likes you?"

"No, Nate, how would I know that? I mean, I've only met him three or four times," I remind him.

"Well, he knows a good thing when he sees it."

"What do you want?" I ask suspiciously, "You're falling into your sweet talking mode that you only use when you want something, so what is it?"

"Oh, like I have to want something just because I compliment you," he smirks, "I've known you since you were eating dirt on the playground, and you're trying to tell me you have reason to believe the only time I've complimented you was when I needed or wanted something from you? That hurts, Hales, that hurts bad."

I roll my eyes at him. "Nathan, face it, I'm not exactly at the top of your compliment list," I point out, not bitterly or unkindly, though. Just matter-of-factly. "I mean, it's not like you diss me or anything, but it's not often you tell me how great I am."

"You are," he asserts quietly, and he looks about as serious as I've ever seen him, "If I don't tell you that enough – hell, ever – then I'm a fucking bastard. Because you're great, Hales."

I blush, covering it by reaching over and pulling him into a tight hug. "You're great, too, Nathan. Now," I begin, pulling away, "If we're done with the warm fuzzies, I'll get some studying done so that we can go to that party of yours."

"I mean it!" he exclaims, "Don't play it off like I am just saying it, okay?"

"Nate, I'm not. I just have to do some studying before we go out to that basketball party that we both know we'll end up staying at way longer than a few minutes. Which is fine, but I have to do some studying now. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," he agrees sheepishly, "Sorry for freaking out. I just don't want you to feel underappreciated in any way. I know how great you are, and I know how much you have to offer. Don't think I don't."

"I won't," I promise, holding up my fingers in the Scout's Honor position.

He winks and walks out of the room, leaving me alone in a room filled with books and the regrets of missed opportunities.

"Come on, Nathan, just one more drink!" I plead over my shoulder to him, giggling as one of Nathan's basketball friends pats me on the ass on his way by. Nathan glares at him, which just serves to make me giggle harder at his protectiveness.

"I think you've had enough, baby," he murmurs in my ear as he reaches around me and grabs the cup out of my hand before I get a chance to raise it to my lips.

I shiver at the heady combination of his proximity and the alcohol coursing through my body. It's too much, and I can't even form a coherent reply, so I just let him spin me around and drag me out of the party.

"Okay," he sighs when he gets me outside a few minutes later, "You're too drunk to do much else tonight. Want to head back to the apartment?"

"No," I laugh, twirling around in a circle, my arms spread wide, "I don't want to go back there. Everything is so real there."

He furrows his brow in confusion. "Real? What does that mean? That this is some fantasy candyland?"

"Yes, that's exactly what it is," I tease, "Take a bite out of that tree, it's really fudge."

"Okay, drunk-o," he laughs, grabbing my hand and pulling me along with him, "You know what I mean. Why are things more real at home than out here?"

"Nathan," I sing-song, "Let's talk about YOU instead. Let's talk about where Suzie is tonight. I thought we'd bump into her at the party."

"Where'd thoughts of her come from?" he wonders.

I shrug, "I dunno, she's just usually at basketball parties, right? I mean, isn't that how you met her?"

He nods. "Yeah, well, she's not always everywhere I am, Hales. We can be apart for a night, you know."

"I never said you couldn't."

"Okay."

"Okay," I repeat, shivering slightly as we walk slowly across the street.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," he says finally as he shrugs off his jacket. I smile gratefully as I put it on. "I didn't mean to; and I didn't even have a reason, you know?"

"Okay."

"Quit saying 'okay'," he commands.

"You said it first," I point out rather immaturely.

"Haley," he sighs, grabbing my arm so that I stop with him when he comes to a stand still. "Come on, let's walk down to the beach."

"What? Now? We'd have to hop the fence, you know they close it for the night."

"So?" he grins.

"So, I'm wearing a skirt, you buffoon, I'm not climbing any fences unless we're running from the cops. Not that I'm giving you permission to have us do something over which we may need to run from the cops, though."

"Oh, get over it, I'll help you. We'll just have to make sure you're not too drunk and stumbly by the time we get there, huh?"

"Hey, I never stumble," I counter, elbowing him in the side. "I'm the picture of grace and elegance, didn't ya know?"

"You tripped at graduation when you were walking across the stage to get your diploma," he reminds me, "And I know for a fact that you were perfectly sober."

"Oh, that was just one time," I snort, feeling my face flame at the reminder. I was so glad that high school was over after doing that.

"One time? One time? Have you been smoking crack because you're clearly losing brain cells at an exponential rate if you think you can say that and believe it!"

"Hey," I protest, "I might fall or stumble once in awhile, but you make it sound like it's once a day occurrence or something!"

"Well, that's not that far off," he reasons, grinning as we approach the fence. He chuckles knowingly when he sees the look of trepidation on my face. "You can do it, Hales. I'm here to help, too."

"I don't want to fall, Nathan. It's just sand, but it'd still suck to fall on," I half-whine to him.

"I'll catch you," he promises in that self-assured almost cocky tone of his, "I'd never let you fall, Hales."

I frown at him, but give in now, rather than later. We both know I would eventually, anyway. I watch as he quickly climbs up and over the fence, hopping down to safely land on the opposite side. "You make it look so easy," I grump at him.

"Hey, it'll be easy for you, too," he assures me, "Just go slow, and be careful when you get to the top."

I start climbing, grimacing as it shakes under my weight. "Nathan, do you remember what happened the first time I tried to climb a fence?"

When he starts laughing, I can tell he does. "I caught you, didn't I?" he reminds me, still chuckling, "It wasn't that bad."

"Nathan, the pocket got caught and tore off, exposing half my ass. I was sixteen, and every guy on the basketball team saw my damn panties that day."

"Well, they were cute panties," he grins, as I lift first one foot and then the other over, gritting my teeth in nervousness.

"Nathan, that is beside the point. This whole conversation is beside the point anyway, since you are only trying to distract me so I make it down okay."

"It worked, didn't it?" he grins my feet hit the ground, all on my own.

"Huh, it did," I marvel, "I'll never doubt you again."

"You never should've in the first place," he tells me, again grabbing my hand. Nathan hasn't been this touchy-feely with me in months if not years; I can't really explain what has come over him today.

"It's peaceful out here at night," I comment as we make our way over to some large pieces of driftwood to sit on, "It's a bitch getting here, but it might just be worth it."

"And…," he prompts.

"And?"

"And you were going to say how incredibly awesome the company is, too, right? I know you weren't forgetting that part, Haley Jo James."

"Don't call me that, Nathaniel Daniel Scott."

"Hey! I used your fake middle name, don't bust out with my real one. I hate my damn name," he pouts.

"I didn't name you. It's not my fault your parents didn't have the foresight to realize that a child's first and middle names should never, ever rhyme!"

"Yeah, even if for nothing else, that's probably pretty hate-worthy, huh?" I blink at him in surprise: it has been a long time since he's brought up his parents and the resentment he holds toward them.

"Have you talked to either of them lately?" I ask quietly.

He shakes his head. "Well, you see them at the games, I'm sure, but they've seemed to have gotten the message that I want nothing to do with either of them. They've stopped approaching me."

"Is that good or bad?"

He snorts out a laugh. "With them? Always a good thing, and you know it." And I do know it. I've known that Nathan needed to be away from those two soul-suckers since the very first time I met them when I was five.

"Still doesn't make it any easier, though."

"Sure it does. It'd be even easier if they didn't come around here period, but they do. As long as they don't talk to me, I'm not going to have that big of a problem with it."

"Your mom loves you," I tell him for the millionth time. It's true, Deb Scott does love her son, but Deb Scott also loves herself more. And that facet of her personality has been proven time and time again when she'd choose herself or Dan over Nathan's well-being.

"It's not enough, Hales," he says sadly, shaking his head, "She'll never really love me in the way your parents love you. You know, enough to intercede."

"She's weak," I agree, "And Dan will always come first. She does love you, though. It might not be that much, but it is something to hang onto. She just doesn't know how to show it."

"Well, it'll never be enough, will it?" he asks rhetorically, "And even if it was, it's too little too late. Just once when I was still stuck living there she could've stepped in when Dan was pushing me, and Hales, she didn't. Never. Not even one time. How hard would that have been?"

I scoot closer to him, pressing my body into his, trying to absorb some of his pain. "You're right," I agree, "It would've been easy enough, and she owed it to you. And she's going to pay the price for the rest of her life – she's the one missing out."

He shifts so that he can wrap his arms around me, pulling me onto his lap. "Thank you for being my friend."

"You don't have to thank me for that," I whisper against his neck.

"Yeah, I do. I'm so screwed up, Hales, I know I'm not really people's first choice in friends. Unless they think that my basketball will get them something. But you, you've always been my friend, despite all the shit I've done to people over the years."

"You're not a bad guy, Nathan," I tell him, desperate for him to believe it, "You don't always make good decisions, but you're not as bad as you want people to think."

"Yeah, maybe." I can feel him withdrawing emotionally although he doesn't pull away from me physically. I shiver involuntarily when he starts to trace patterns on the bare skin of my back where my shirt rode up.

"Nathan," I whisper, trailing off when his hand slides further up my back, fiddling with the clasp on my bra.

"Hmm?" he murmurs, still fiddling with the clasp but not unhooking it. "It feels good to be out here with you, Hales."

I breathe deeply of his scent _knowing_ I should pull away. Things are getting too heated, too close to the fire, and I can feel that he is as turned on as I am. "What are we doing?" I ask in a hushed, breathless voice even as I move to straddle his lap. My breath releases in a hiss when he pulls me tight to him, thrusting up against me.

"We're just holding each other," he whispers back, his voice as breathless as mine. I tighten my hold on him at the feel of his lips and tongue on my neck. "You smell good, Hales. Taste good, too."

"Mmm, thank you." I've wanted this – him – for so long now that I can barely remember a time when I didn't want it. The alcohol is still heating my insides, and now Nathan is making me burn on the outside. Everywhere he touches is like a trail of fire.

I gasp when he gently bites the skin he's exposed near my collarbone. He chuckles deep in his throat and sends his hands gliding down to my hips, holding me against him.

There are a million reasons that we need to stop immediately at the very least. At least half of them are really damn good ones, too, like him having a girlfriend and my feelings for him not being reciprocated. I can practically hear Brooke whispering in my ear how stupid I'm being, how careless, but I can't stop. I can't stop my hands from sliding up under his shirt to caress his chest, and I can't stop them when they pull it off entirely.

I don't stop him when his slide under my skirt, skimming my inner thighs. I moan softly, my hands reflexively traveling to his belt, which I quickly unbuckle and pull off. I work on the button on his jeans as he pulls my hands away so that he can get my shirt and bar off.

"So gorgeous, Hales," he murmurs as he stares at my bare chest. Even in the darkness, the beach only being lit by the moon now, I still blush at his intense perusal.

"Nathan," I sigh, trying to bring my arms up to cover myself.

"Don't," he says harshly, pushing my arms down to my sides before repeating in a calmer, gentler tone, "Don't. Haley, you're gorgeous. You're so beautiful, never hide yourself."

Laughing in embarrassment, I joke, "So I should pose for Playboy?"

He captures my hands behind my back and leans back as far as he can to look at me. "No, but you shouldn't be embarrassed. Ever."

He's so serious and so earnest that I feel tears welling in my eyes, but I blink them back. He pulls me tight to him, so that our bare chests are pushed together. I gasp at the contact, melting against him when his hands again travel under my skirt, skimming the lacy edge of my panties.

"Nathan," I moan, sliding my hand down his chest inside his boxers, "God, what the hell are we doing?"

"If you don't know, then you must've been lying on those truths in Truth or Dare," he whispers, his breath hot in the valley of my cleavage.

"You know what I mean," I groan, dipping my head to kiss and nip at his neck.

"We're just doing what feels good, Haley Baby," he pauses to grin at me before dropping his head back down to tease and torment me further. "God, I want you. And I know you want me, I can feel it, I can _taste _it."

I don't think he even knows the half of how bad I want him, not really. But there's no need to convince him of it now as he sets me off him and spreads out his jacket over the sand and pulls me down with him on it. He lays me gently on my back, pressing me down into the sand with the weight of his body.

My last coherent thought is that he hasn't once kissed me on the lips, but as he kisses _the rest_ of my body, all thoughts, coherent or otherwise, flee.

We stayed at the beach for a little while, just holding and caressing each other. It's sweet and intimate, and I have never been so happy for a warm spring as I am now. But the cold does eventually drive us to head back to the apartment. When we get there, he pulls me into his room with him, and we take each other's clothes off again and make love. Have sex. Whatever it is we are doing.

I fell asleep in his bed, so when I wake up in mine, it's disconcerting to say the least. A feeling of dread is quick to develop in the pit of my stomach, and I feel sick. Disgusted. Mostly with myself – I should've seen this coming.

I jump out of bed and throw on a t-shirt and pair of jeans, ready to confront him. How _dare_ he use me like I'm one of his groupie whores? I slam my door open and storm down the hall. I barrel into his room without bothering to knock, but he's not there.

"Nathan!" I holler, "Where the hell are you?"

I'm greeted only by silence, though, and a note taped to the TV. Knowing that there is nothing in that note that could possibly make me feel better, I just stare at it. Gathering my strength, I grab it off the TV and unfold it.

_Hales,_

_Had to run out, thought you'd be more comfortable in your own bed. See you soon,_

Nate 

I can't believe he just ditched me like this. Just left me here after what we did last night without even telling me where he was going. The fact that he moved me back into my own room speaks volumes, though. I don't even know what to do. If he'd been here, I'd have probably yelled at him, but now? Now I just have this strong urge to run and not look back, hide from him for as long as possible.

The door flies open, and I'm relieved to see that it's Brooke, barging in as she always does, instead of Nathan.

"Oh, God, what happened?" she questions the second she sees me.

"Nathan. He – I – we, oh, Brooke, I messed up. I'm so stupid, and now everything is messed up." I fight to keep the tears out of my eyes. "Brooke, we had sex. A bunch of times. Oh, God, and he was gone this morning when I woke up, and he'd moved me into my room, and he never once all night kissed me on the mouth." By the end of my tirade, I'm crying in earnest.

Brooke immediately moves to me and puts her arms around me. "Oh, Hales, I can't believe you guys did it," she sighs, "I figured you would at some point, but I didn't think it'd be like this."

"Like what? Like he'd fuck and run on me? Because I didn't either. I figured he'd at least make some shitty excuse up to my face, but he doesn't even have the courtesy to do that, does he?"

Brooke moves away from me, and I can tell by the look on her face that she has something to tell me. "I'm sorry this happened, Hales," she says, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Yeah, me too," I spit out bitterly. "Just say it."

"Say what?"

"I told you so. Because you did. You told me exactly what he'd do to me if I gave him the chance, and he did it one hundred percent. God, Brooke, he has been my best friend since we were in kindergarten! How could he treat me like I'm poo on the bottom of his shoe?"

"He doesn't even know what he's missing, Hales," she says, trying to be comforting.

"Well," I snort, "That's not exactly true anymore, is it? I showed him exactly what he is, or as the case obviously is, isn't missing. He left, Brooke. He kicked me out of his room and he left without a word. That pretty much says it all, doesn't it?"

She shakes her head. "I am so kicking his ass. How dare he do this you? How dare he?" She glances around the apartment. "Well, get your stuff. Let's go."

"What?" I ask, puzzled.

"Well, you aren't staying here with that piece of shit. Come on," she repeats, grabbing my arm and pulling me down the hall, "Let's grab some of your stuff and get you out of here. We can come get the rest sometime when we know he'll be gone for awhile."

I know she's right – I need to not be here or around him right now, so I wordlessly agree, pulling out a bag and stuffing the essentials in it. I don't bother with clothes knowing Brooke will lend me whatever I need, so I mainly throw in toiletries and school stuff.

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Doing what?" she asks, "Leaving?" I nod. "Well, why not? I mean, why stay here in a place that is only going to remind you of everything that went wrong with Nathan? Come stay with me and at least have fun for our last month of undergrad studies and not worry about ex-friends and morons, okay?"

"Yeah, you're right," I agree, "I need to move on and put this behind me as quickly as possible. There's just no point in dwelling over something that will never be and something that will never be the same again, right?"

She nods, and I again see she wants to say something else. I give her a 'look' and she sighs. "Okay, I have to tell you this – I really don't want to, but I have to be the one to do it."

"Oh, God, what? Did Mr. Football Player move in with you? Am I going to have to sleep on the deck or in the bathtub?" I joke, feeling a little better for it.

She shakes her head, looking nervous. I know immediately whatever she's going to tell me is bad, and I'm not going to like it. "Nathan is engaged."

I blink at her, thinking she _must_ be kidding. "You're kidding, right? Really, what do you have to tell me, because I thought you said that Nathan was engaged, and I know that can't possibly be true."

She sighs, looking away. "It was in the paper this morning. A wedding notice. Maybe it was an error or maybe they changed their minds after they placed it."

The sick feeling in my stomach returns. "Engaged?" I echo dully, "How could he be engaged? And if it was in the paper this morning, then that means he was engaged last night."

She nods jerkily. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to tell you, but I didn't want you to find out from anyone else. I hope I was right to tell me."

I look at her sharply. "I'd have killed you if you kept this from me. Come on, let's get the hell out of her. I never want to see this place or him again."

She grabs one of the bags I've thrown together and walks out of the apartment. "You coming?" she calls back to me.

"Yeah," I nod, "In a second." She nods back at me and makes her way to the car. I watch her go and then turn around in the doorway and look back inside the place I've lived for the last few years with my 'best friend'. "I can't believe this is how everything ends," I whisper to myself before slamming the door shut.

I'm not sorry when I hear glass shattering as I slammed it hard enough to knock something off the wall, and the petty side of me hopes it is the picture we hung our first day here – the picture of us at Nathan's sixth birthday party.

I walk off and don't look back once.


	3. The Victim of SelfInflicted Circumstance

**Chapter Two – _The Victim of Self-Inflicted Circumstance_**

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve," I count aloud as I slam the barbell up and down over my body doing bench presses. I've got twenty pounds over my normal rep weight on each side, but right now I'm so keyed up I can't even feel the burn.

When I can't do anymore I let the weights slam down onto the rack not caring that everyone in the room is staring at me, probably wondering what's up my ass. It's a good thing I don't give a shit about any of them or what they think right now, and it's an even better thing they're all keeping their distance. I wouldn't turn a good fight down now; hell, I wouldn't turn a bad one down, either.

I stalk out of the gym towards the locker room without looking at a single person in there even though I know their eyes are on me. Why should I give a rat's ass about any of them, though? I've already fucked up the only relationship that really matters to me, all in one night. All in the matter of a few hours.

I didn't bring a gym bag with me, so I just stomp straight out of the gym to my Tahoe and jump in. A part of me wants to find an excuse not to go back to the apartment, but I know I can't be a coward about this. God, I already know I've done huge damage by leaving her this morning. By dumping her _out of my bed. _I really fucked that one up.

My phone rings, and I grab it out of my pocket as fast as I can, hoping that it is her. "Haley?" I practically beg.

"No, it's not Haley, it's your fiancée!" Susie snaps, shocking me to the bone.

"Wh – what? My what?"

"What? WHAT? That's my line, Nathan! God, I know I'm not a genius, but did you think I am unable to read? Hello, I get the school paper every morning, and I always look at the gossip section. Is this your idea of a sick joke? How could you?" I know something is seriously wrong now – I've never heard her sound like that before.

"Susie, calm down. I have no idea what you're talking about. Calm down and tell me, okay?" She sniffles as she gets herself under control. "Okay, tell me what's going on?"

"Nathan!" she screeches, and I literally have to hold the phone away from my ear, "Get the fucking paper! And then you better have a damned good explanation for what is going on!"

The click in my ear indicates she hung up on me. "She fucking hung up on me," I marvel, thinking no one had ever done that before. Focusing on what she said, I pull over and jump out of my car, grabbing a newspaper off of a bench at the bus stop.

I flip to the gossip page and my heart sinks at what I see: Star Basketball Player Engaged. Along with a picture of me and Susie. Shit. God, no wonder Suze is freaking out. She's only fucking eighteen, I'm sure getting engaged isn't at the top of things to do list right now. Plus, she's smart enough to know I'm not The One. But here it is, someone has apparently made that decision for us.

My phone rings again, and I pick it up slowly this time, not sure who I'm hoping it is. "Hello?" I ask cautiously, sounding shell-shocked to my own ears.

"Did you read the paper yet, sunshine?" a cheerful male voice comes through the phone.

"Who the hell is this?" I bark.

"Geez, Scott, calm down, it's just me, Javey." Shit, this was a fucking prank, it dawns. Every year, the seniors play pranks on the freshman and sophomores on the team, and every year they try and get them back. They usually do it before the last month of the school year, though. This is Javey getting me back for gluing feathers all over his room. How was I supposed to know he was allergic?

"Fucking A, Rodriguez, do you know what you've done? Do you have even the slightest clue how big and hard you've fucked me over?"

"I – I was just joking, man," he stutters out, clearly nervous now. Oh, he has no clue what he's in for, what I'm going to do to him.

"You have ruined every aspect of my life," I grit out through clenched teeth, "And I will ruin every aspect of yours, you got that you little punk-ass piece of shit?"

"Scott, man, it was a joke!" he exclaims, trying again to explain.

"Listen up and listen good, you little worm! A joke is hiding someone's jersey in the locker room! A joke is filling someone's shoes with shaving cream! Printing false wedding announcements is not a joke, you piece of shit!"

I slam the phone shut, unwilling to hear another word he has to say. What damn difference does it make now? Everything is already ruined, and if I'm being honest with myself, I ruined it all last night, anyway. Jesus Christ, Haley will flip if she sees that paper before I can talk to her.

I drive back to the apartment as fast as I dare, barely talking the time to grab the keys out of the ignition before I run up the stairs to get to Haley. I fling open the door, stepping inside. I jump back when something cracks under my feet. Glass. Broken glass all over the cold linoleum of the entryway.

And it is from the picture that was on the table by the door. The one of Haley and I at our high school graduation. She knows, or she's pissed at me for taking off. She has to know, and she has to be hugely pissed at me. She wouldn't leave broken glass laying all over the floor of our apartment if she didn't.

"Hales?" I call out cautiously, half expecting her to hurl another framed picture of us at me. I walk down the hall to her room, letting myself hope that she might still be asleep, that maybe she doesn't know anything about the newspaper. But that hope was just in vain I realize when I see that her room is torn apart and all her books are gone. It looks like a bunch of things off her dresser are missing, too.

I let myself drop down on her bed and feel the emptiness in the room, the emptiness throughout the whole apartment. Hollow, that's a good word for things. For the room, the whole place, but most of all, how I feel right now. Like I'm empty, there's nothing inside of me.

It's obvious where she went – Brooke's. I'm smart enough to know that Haley has a lot of friends here, but none as important to her as Brooke, so that's where she is. Hell, I think Brooke took my place in Hales' life at least two years ago. That's when I stopped trying as hard with Haley, that's when I stopped making sure I knew every aspect of her life. I found out I was replaceable.

It was a hard lesson, but one I now know I should've seen coming. I guess my head was just so far up my ass about everything with Haley that I missed it. I missed it completely. It was almost overnight, it seemed, like one day I was her best friend and the next Brooke had taken my place, almost like I'd never been there before. Haley, who'd never been easy friends with other girls before, had replaced me with the ultimate girly girl.

But even if everything up to that point was Haley's fault, everything that happened last night was mine. It's no wonder she left. I'd have left, too, if I were her. Basketball is the only thing in my life that I've managed to retain without wrecking, and it's probably a miracle I still have that.

To lose Haley, though, and know for sure this time it is forever, that aches. It makes it a little harder to breathe knowing that I'm not going to be able to tease my best friend, that she's not going to use my shoulder as the one she cries on. It makes it damn near impossible to catch my breath when I realize that I'm the reason she's crying, I'm the reason she's hurt.

Last night was selfish of me, incredibly so. I know that, and I knew it even as I proceeded to take off her clothes and tease her body until she forgot it was me, forgot that I'm _just_ her friend. Things got out of hand for me the last few days. Haley had been giving me the brush-off more and more, and I snapped. I picked fights with her and I hounded her to tell me what her problem is. When that didn't work, I talked her into coming out with me. And that turned out real well. Only I can fuck up hanging out with a friend.

Maybe if we hadn't talked about my parents I wouldn't have panicked and grabbed onto her like she was my lifeline. Hell, maybe if, even now, I didn't absolutely _know_ that she is the closest thing I'll ever have to a lifeline, all of this would be easier. She was all I had – really had and could trust in having – and now she's gone.

Suddenly angry, mainly at myself, but there is some reserved for her, I tear out of her room down the hall, knocking down everything I can find, trashing everything in my way. I knock pictures off the wall, tear down posters and basketball schedules we've taped up. I kick over the couch, and I overturn the barstools. This isn't going to solve anything; in fact, it will make more of a mess both figuratively and literally, but it feels good to lash out.

The last thing left hanging on the wall is a picture of Haley and I together when we five or six over near the door. I grab it off the wall, about to chuck it as hard as I can, but I can't bring myself to do it. Shit, it might be all I have left of her.

A knock on the door startles me, and I spin around hoping against hope that it is Haley. "Haley," I say as I open the door.

"Once again, not Haley. Again, not your fiancée, either," Susie mutters as I stand back to let her in. "What the hell happened here? Were you guys robbed?"

"I – no, we weren't," I say shortly, not in the mood to deal with her, even though she doesn't deserve for me to be so curt with her now. Out of everyone, she is probably the **most** innocent victim.

"What's going on, Nate? Your place is trashed, Haley's apparently gone, and there was an article in the paper saying we are engaged? What happened?"

She's got her hands planted firmly on her hips, and I can tell that no matter what I say, it won't be a good enough explanation. "It's nothing, Susie, just leave it, okay?"

"Leave it? Hell no, half of this involves me directly! Why was there an article about us in the paper? Is that your idea of a sick joke?" she accuses, jabbing her finger in my face. "How could you do this to me? My sister, in case you forgot, also goes to school here! She called my parents, Nate, who called in a panic!"

"Fuck no, it isn't my idea of anything," I spit, "Look, it was of the damn freshman on the team. That was his idea of a stellar "prank" on me. I'm sorry it hurt you, too."

"So, you don't expect us to get married or anything?" she asks, sounding ridiculously relieved. "Because I'm not about to get married, not to you." She pauses, probably realizing how bad that sounds. "Sorry, but I know your past, I know your love of women. I don't even trust you've stayed faithful so far, so there's no way I could marry you."

"Well, you don't have to sound quite so happy about it," I chuckle, a tiny bit of the tension draining away.

"I'm sorry," she sighs, "It's just – I really like you, Nathan. You're a good guy, and you've got a great future. I might've even thought I'd be a part of that future, but when I saw that headline, it just gelled and I knew that you and I, we aren't meant to be."

"It took this for you to figure that out?"

"Better than on our wedding day or something, right?" she shrugs. "I'm sorry, Nathan. I don't know where you saw us going, but I'm just beginning to think this is the end of the line." Mutely, I nod my agreement. She stands on her tiptoes and gives me a kiss on the cheek. She pulls away, crinkling her nose at me. "You smell like perfume, Scott. I'll pretend like I didn't notice that so we can end on a good note. And I won't point out how it sort of proves my whole point."

"Thanks, Susie," I tell as she steps toward the door. She smiles softly at me. "I'm really sorry if Javey's stupid prank messed anything up for you."

"Oh, I'll just have some explaining to do, but I'm sure you will, too. Good luck, Nathan. Clean that broken glass up before you hurt yourself."

"Thanks, you too." God knows I'm going to need it.

Once she leaves, I look around at the mess I've made. I grab the dustpan and broom, and take Susie's advice – I clean up the glass. Even though the glass is gone now, it is still broken, and when the rest of the place is straightened back up, I realize the same is true of it. Yeah, it looks like it did before all this, but I know it will never the same again. It's broken.

I spend the better part of the day moping around the apartment neglecting even my usual afternoon ritual of joining the guys in a pick-up basketball game to keep my skills sharp now that I'm in that black hole period between the NCAA tournament and the draft. Instead, I lay on Haley's bed, pathetically enough, and hope against hope that she'll come back so I can explain things to her.

She doesn't, though, and I'm not surprised. Why would she? Why _should _she? "Fuck this," I mutter aloud to myself, "She left, and didn't give me a chance to explain. Why should I sit here and mope over her leaving?"

I jump in the shower, standing under the hot water for a few minutes after I'm done grooming, and then jump out. There's no way I'm staying here now. It might be Sunday, but I'm newly single and newly friendless, so I might as well go out and live up my Big Man on Campus moniker one last time before college ends.

I end up at the basketball house, which actually only houses two basketball players. But it's sort of a team hangout, and since it is nearing the end of the school year, they've got something going on nearly every night of the week. Markus, a fellow senior, greets me at the door.

"Scott, my man, what brings you by on a Sunday? Here to celebrate your engagement?" he laughs, clapping me on the back. "Sorry, man," he backtracks when he sees the look on my face, "Javey told us what happened. I just figured you'd have realized it was a joke and let it go by now."

I shake my head at him. "Not a funny joke. You shits didn't know about it, did you?"

"Nope, it was all Javey, man. Sorry, didn't know it upset you so much."

"Yeah, well, it messed everything up, Mark, so I'm sorry if I'm not just over it already. Susie broke up with me, and everything else is just shot to hell."

"Oh, wow, sorry, Scott," he mutters, nonplussed, "Well, uh, how's Haley? I assume she made it home okay Friday?"

"Yeah, she did," I snort, "But I wouldn't know how she is now. I doubt she'll ever speak to me again after everything."

"She's mad because of the prank?" he asks, surprised.

"Let's just say it didn't help matters any."

"Okay, man, well, uh, you know where the bar is," he says, stepping aside as I walk past him without another word.

There's probably no reason for me to act like a total dick to everyone I come into contact with, but at this point I don't care. I don't say anything to anyone I pass, even the guys I've known for almost four years now as I head straight for the bar. I grab a fifth of whiskey and walk out onto the deck, ready to get drunk and stew in my own anger and guilt for awhile. Maybe wait until Javey gets here and kick his dumb ass.

There's no one else out here, which is fine by me. I don't need the company of anyone right now, I've got more than enough going on in my own head as it is. Small talk just holds no appeal, and for once in my life, neither do the basketball groupies. Hell, even when I've actually been in a relationship, like with Susie, I'd at least look. Oh, I'm a shithead cheater, I know that, which is why it's weird I have no interest in them now.

But even those morons can read the mood that I'm in, and they're staying far away. It hasn't stopped them from staring, but at least none of them are hanging on me tonight. I drink straight from the bottle, seeing absolutely no reason to get a cup. The first few swallows burn bitterly, but after that it becomes a haze of warm tingling that is soothing in a weird way.

By the time I'm halfway finished with the bottle, Javey has arrived. I see him glancing nervously at me, but I ignore him until I get a little more alcohol in me. The drunker I am, the better. The last thing I need is to kick his ass so bad I get arrested a month before the draft.

When I polish off the bottle, I'm stumbling and having to grip at the railing to stay upright. A lot of people are looking at me like I have something all over my face, but I just glare back. I storm through the apartment to find him.

"So, you're actually brave enough to show up, huh?" I slur, jabbing him in the chest with my fingers, "Because you're going to be sorry by the time I'm through with your sorry ass."

"I'm already sorry, man," he backs away from me, holding his hands up, "I didn't know something so small would cause you such big problems. I'm sorry, man!"

"Come on, Nate, let him go, dawg," Markus tells me, trying to drag me away.

"Why should I?" I scream, fighting Mark's grip on me, "He ruined everything! He ruined my life! And I should just let him go? Screw that bullshit!"

"Outside," Markus barks, forcibly dragging my unsteady ass out the front door. "Knock it off!" he commands when I begin shouting obscenities back towards Javey. "What the hell, man? Why you acting like this?"

"He ruined my life!" I rage, looking around for something to hit. If Markus wasn't bigger than me, I might've gone for him.

"How'd he do that?" he asks quietly, "You didn't love Susie anyway, so I know it wasn't that. Does this have to do with why Haley's friend told me to tell you to fuck off when I called Haley's cell to have her come get your sorry ass?"

"You called Haley? How'd you get her cell number?" I bite out, taking a step towards him. When did I become so easily provoked?

"The other night, dawg, I made her give it to me so I could call and make sure she got home okay." He shakes his head at me. "Dang, what's your problem?"

"She hates me," I mutter dully, not wanting to talk to him about this, "I doubt that the whys and the hows really matter much."

"What'd you do?" he asks point-blank.

"None of your damn business," I bite off, glaring at him.

"Why you taking it out on Javier if you're the one who screwed up, man? That's pretty shitty, don't you think?"

"Because he – he trashed my life, Markus, don't you get it? I might've screwed up with Hales, but he made it worse. Probably unfixable!"

Markus looks at me like I'm the stupidest person on the planet, not wrongly, of course. "Man, you need to take some responsibility. For four years now, whenever you fuck up, whenever you get caught with two girls or whenever you were late for practice, you blame someone or something else. It's never your fault, is it? So go on, tell me how none of this is your fault, either. Do it, I dare you to say that with a straight face."

I don't say anything in response. What is there to say? Yeah, I know I'm a complete shit? Because I do, in some ways, but I'm not going to admit it to him, not with all these people standing around staring at us. No way, no how.

"No response?" he questions after a minute under my glare.

"Not for you, man. Not anymore." I move to walk away, but he grabs my arm to stop me. "Let me go. I'm not going back in to your precious party, so don't worry. I just don't want to be around anymore assholes for the night."

"Good luck escaping yourself," he sighs, and while he delivers the words without heat or venom, the truth behind them is staggering.

"Yeah, well, I've always known I'll have to live with myself, and I've always known I'd deal with that fact however I had to."

He nods before turning away and walking back in the house. I watch him go, and I feel a little sorry that I've turned him away, too. Knowing there is nothing left for me here, I turn and walk away, back towards my place.

The streets are quiet, and no one stops me as I stumble along. I want to see Haley so bad, to maybe try to explain, to maybe yell at her for giving up on me, that if I knew where Brooke's house was, I'd probably go over there. The only thing that saves me from that fate worse than death is my complete and utter lack of knowledge about the goings on in Hales' life.

"Fuck," I mutter to myself as I trip, landing on my hands and knees on the pavement of the sidewalk. I hoist myself to my feet, kicking at a garbage can that seems to be taunting me with its perfect ability to stand without falling. I can't do anything without falling.

"Hey!" shouts a voice from the house I'm in front, "Get away from my property!"

"Oh, piss off," I mumble, throwing the finger his way as I trip over my shoelaces, falling onto his lawn.

"Look, guy, you're on my property. I don't know who you think you are, but you can't come around here acting like you're above the rules."

"Who do I think I am?" I laugh mockingly – at him, at me, at everything, "I think I'm the great Nathan Scott, basketball star extraordinaire. Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I'm the guy who owns this place," he smirks, setting off my anger, "And I want you off my property."

"Ha," I laugh, "You should be happy I'm on your property. Probably made the value go up a bunch. I'm important like that."

"Buddy, I know who you are, but that don't mean I'm going to let you come in my yard and kick my things around. Now, get out of here before I call the cops."

I step further on the lawn, taunting him, trying to provoke him into a fight. "What's your problem, man? It's just a stupid, plastic trash can."

He shakes his head at me, stepping off his porch and walking towards me. Even drunk, I can tell he isn't as small or as old as I'd figured, but that doesn't bother me. I'd probably fight Tyson right now, if he were here.

"Get out of here before I kick your ass, kid," he growls, pushing his shirtsleeves up. I just grin back at him, thrilled to have antagonized him to this point. He stops when he gets a few feet away from me, so I take another step towards him.

"You think you can kick my ass?" I laugh, stomping my foot into his grass, creating a divot. "How do you think you'll do that, exactly?"

He doesn't say another word, just hauls off and hits me in the jaw with a hard right. I stagger backwards, but manage to keep my footing. I charge at him, catching him in the stomach with my shoulder, knocking both of us to the ground. We roll around taking shots at each other. In the background, I can hear screaming, but it doesn't phase me and I keep going after him with everything that I've got.

The next thing I'm really aware of is being pulled off of this guy and people shouting at me to put my hands behind my head. I freeze at the realization that I'm in trouble – possibly big trouble – numbly following the orders of the police officers.

All of a sudden, it all hits me. The bright, flashing blue and red from the squad cars, the throbbing in my jaw, the trickles of blood from my forehead and my lip, the way my right eye feels pressurized from the instantaneous swelling. I can feel the bile rising in the back of my throat as an officer slaps cuffs on me, tightening them painfully. Not fans, I guess. Or else I'm so messed up in the face that they can't recognize me.

As he starts to read me my rights, my knees buckle, and they let me fall to the ground as I start vomiting. When it subsides, I wipe my mouth on my shoulder, unable to do it with my bound hands. The officers pull me to my feet and roughly shove me in the back of the car. People all around me are speaking, but their voices seem disjointed and far off as consciousness seems to become harder to maintain.

I must pass out in the back of the car because all of a sudden, I'm being dragged out and roughly set on my feet. Shaking my head to clear it, I see that I'm at the police station and that things are about to go further downhill. There are a couple of reporters with camera guys here, so I duck my head down hoping they won't see me. No one calls my name or says anything, so maybe they missed me.

"You're in trouble, Scott," the officer who is guiding me into the station says, "That guy you were beating on? He's pressing charges."

"He threw the first punch," I mumble.

"You were in his yard, you were kicking his property, and you were working on destroying his yard. Come on, kid, you have to know that doesn't make your case look too good."

I nod, closing my eyes in frustration. "What's going to happen to me?"

"We'll book you; you know, prints, mug shot, process you, basically. All that stuff. We've already got your wallet with ID, so the other arresting officer is out there drawing up the papers. He'll be in to question you when he's done."

"Okay, when can I get someone in here to post bail?" I ask, my voice monotonous and lifeless, which is eerily reminiscent of how I'm feeling in general now.

"Not until morning, man," the officer sighs, "Sorry. He's pressing charges, you're going to have to spend the night so that you can be arraigned. You're lucky tomorrow is Monday, or else you'd be here for the weekend." He shrugs, and I think he must feel bad for me because I do detect some sympathy. "Get a lawyer," he advises, "Having representation at the arraignment isn't a bad idea."

I nod, which immediately brings on a wave of dizziness I could've lived without. "Any chance he'll drop the charges?" I ask quietly. I know it's unlikely, but I guess it probably won't hurt to know exactly what I'm looking at here.

"Never say never, but it doesn't look like it. He's pretty mad about what you did, and he looks about as bad as you." He looks me up and down. "How much did you have to drink?"

"A lot," I admit, "Enough that I don't know for sure. Probably a fifth of whiskey."

He nods. "You smell like a distillery, and you look like you haven't slept in a month. Maybe a lawyer can spin that in your favor."

I choke back a bitter laugh at that. "Thanks for the info and advice," I sigh as he stands up to leave. He nods, and suddenly I'm alone in the small room with only a table, chairs, and old-fashioned rotary phone. The quiet once the door clicks shut hits me like a ton of bricks – it is oppressive and overwhelming. A suffocating presence.

"Fuck, I'm going to jail," I moan, dropping my aching head into my equally aching hands. Now that the alcohol and adrenaline are wearing off, I'm beginning to feel the toll that the past couple of nights have taken on my body.

The other officer comes in and reads me my rights again and then takes my statement of what happened tonight. I keep it as vague as I can; Haley being hooked on Law and Order a few years back helped me on that one.

It goes by quickly, and when it's done, he tells me I can make a phone call now. I ask him to get the seldom used number out of my wallet since I don't have it memorized, and then he leaves me alone in the room to make my call.

My gaze drifts between the phone and that of the number hastily jotted down on a small piece of napkin, torn and frayed and faded after years of being banished to the dark of my wallet. "If I don't call him, I'll have to call _him_," I remind myself, cringing at both options, but more repulsed by the latter.

I pick up the heavy receiver of the phone and quickly dial before I have a chance to change my mind. When his sleepy voice comes through the phone, I almost hang up, but will myself not to.

"Luke?" I begin, my voice shaking with nerves, "I need to call in that favor."

The rest of the night passes uneventfully; luckily it was a quiet Sunday, so there were only two other guys in the cell, and one cried all night, curled in a ball in the corner, and the other was so drunk he didn't even know who I was. The morning also passes quickly, Luke arranged for me to have a lawyer there, and got me out on $1500.00 bail, which I'll get back if I can the guy I fought with to drop the charges.

The lawyer is decent enough to drop me off back at the apartment and simultaneously goes over all I need to know about what I'm about to go through. Once I'm showered and cleaned up, I realize I should feel better, but somehow, I don't. Today is going to be a thousand times worse than yesterday was, and that's saying something. But Luke is coming, and I know the first words out of his mouth will be something along the lines of 'serves you right', 'I told you so', or 'you're finally getting what you deserve'.

I clean up the last of my mess from yesterday, trying to give him as little to nitpick about as possible. This is going to be a long, tense day with him, and if we can keep it semi-civil, it'd be a miracle.

I still can't believe he's coming. He almost sounded worried, but I doubt concern for me is keeping him from his beauty sleep, so he's more than likely coming to gloat. He's going to ask questions that I don't have answers for or that I'm not willing to answer, and he's going to do it with that superior attitude where he makes me feel like shit because he was the little boy wronged and I was the one who allegedly had everything.

The worst of it will be him rubbing Haley's absence in my face. He and Haley might've broke up years ago, and didn't really date that long anyway, but he always acts like he's some authority figure on her and my relationship with her. It won't take him long to beat me down for her absence, that's for sure.

Haley and I didn't drink often here, but there are several fifths of liquor in the freezer just in case. It's tempting to pull one out and get good and drunk before Luke gets here, but look where that got me last night. Jail. And antagonized beatings are a lot more likely with me and Luke than me and a random guy whose trash can I kicked, so alcohol is a bad idea.

Once the place looks decent, I let myself collapse on the couch and sleep. Last night was admittedly lacking in rest, and I'm pretty exhausted now that I'm letting myself feel it. my eyes hurt and are swollen from the punches I received. My jaw is sore and purple. I have bruises and cuts on my arms and chest. Basically, I'm a mess.

The hours before his arrival are filled with dread as I sit in this now lifeless apartment waiting for him to call me for a ride from the airport. Time drifts by and just when I'm starting to think he's changed his mind, there is a knock on the door.

I lift myself off the couch with much effort, and open the door to find Brooke looking as smug as I've ever seen anyone look, myself included.

"Someone finally did humanity a favor and tried to put you out of our misery, huh?" she apprises as she looks me up and down, "Well, they failed, but I give them bonus points for blackening both eyes."

She pushes past me into the apartment and breezes down the hall to Haley's room. I don't say anything, just let her go, standing with the door open so that she doesn't waste any time in getting out. Yeah, I have about a million questions to ask about Hales, but I'm sure as shit not going to ask her any of them. This bitch isn't getting crap from me.

"You know, Nathan, this silent treatment isn't getting you anywhere. I mean, you aren't giving me anything to tell Haley, good or bad. Of course, everything from you is pretty much bad right about now, at least where Haley is concerned. Especially your performance in the sack." She sticks her head out of the bedroom to give me a pitying look. "You know, for a guy who has so openly had so many conquests, you'd think you'd have the performance aspects of it down a little more. What a shame."

"Brooke, just get what you came for and go. You picking a fight with me isn't going to get either of us anywhere."

She steps fully out of the bedroom to glare at me. "You know, you still think you're so great. That's what I don't get about you. Time and time again you do some asshole thing that hurts people, even those you allegedly care about, but you still think you're better than everyone, that you are somehow entitled to more than us normal peons."

I turn away from her, looking out the door. "It's a good thing that what you think only matters to about two people," I tell her over my shoulder.

"And too bad for you that one of them is Haley." She re-emerges from the bedroom with a filled bad. "Really, Nathan, fucking her the night before your wedding announcement comes out? That's class."

I'm about to tell her where she can stick her opinions when Luke's voice sounds behind me. "Fuck who?" And then, "Wedding announcement?"

"Shit," I mutter softly without turning around. Brooke smirks at me, so she clearly knows this is a situation I did not want to find myself in.

She turns her smile on and saunters past me to Luke, who, when I finally turn, I can see has really bulked up since the last time I saw him. He's not a scrawny kid anymore. He looks at me with questions in his eyes, but I just shrug for now, not wanting to get into anything when Brooke is here.

"So you, new boy," Brooke begins, sizing Luke up with a lick of her lips and a hair toss, "You obviously don't know the most recent developments in the 'Nathan Scott is a Raging Asshole Towards Humanity and Should Be Stopped With Tranquilizer Guns and Castration' saga." He shakes his head warily, eyeing her with the same gusto she eyed him with. "Excellent," she crows, not unlike Mr. Burns, "You'll get the full Brooke Davis version, then!"

"And you're Brooke?" he asks, his eyes darting from me to her. He looks taken aback by my appearance, which is odd considering he knew I was in jail for assault and battery.

"The one and only. Anyway, you're what? You're something to Nathan, and I know it isn't a teammate."

"Yeah, you've screwed enough of them to know whose on the team, huh Brooke?" I snap out caustically, pissed she's still here, pissed Luke appears to be hanging on her every word, and pissed that Haley couldn't come for herself.

"Oh, Slut Boy, I get what you're trying to do, but it won't work. Calling attention to my sex life does absolutely nothing to minimize the fact that you seduced your so-called best friend who has been nothing but great to you and then dumping her back in her own bed before she wakes up on the morning that your engagement to your bubble headed girlfriend is announced." She pretends to look thoughtful. "Yeah, there isn't much that minimizes that, is there?"

"What?" Luke asks softly but dangerously. The anger underlying in his voice is a clear hint at how he's going to take this, and it won't be pretty.

Brooke grins at me. "Well, I think I've done enough. Seeing as how I'm still Haley's friend – you know, because I didn't dick her over. Funny how that works," she whispers confidently to Luke, "Anyway, since she still, oh, likes me, I ought to get back to my place and give her these things she needs."

Neither of us say anything to her as she breezes past us and out the door. The smug smirk on her face tells me I was completely right in not trying to rationalize myself to her; she hates me, there is no way she'd believe me. Even if she did, I'm not so sure that she'd tell Haley the truth. She just hates me that much.

The silence that stretches between Luke and I tries to lull me into a false sense of security, but this is one time that I know silence isn't golden. In fact, he's probably just gathering his words so that he can rip me the biggest new one possible all in one breath.

"What happened, man?"

That's it? That's all he's got? But…that's not possible, this is Luke, Mr. I'm Too Busy Reading Steinbeck and Being Better than You to Stoop to Your Level, how could he stop there?

"What happened? With what?" He rolls his eyes at me. "Well, a lot has happened in the last few days. Should we start with the fight and why you had to find me a lawyer and bail me out? Your check is on the fridge, by the way." He nods tersely. "Or should we start with how I've managed to wreck or let get wrecked the only things I care about in this world in the span of two days?"

"What happened with Haley?"

Got to go right to the heart of the matter, as usual. "I treated her worse than I've ever treated anyone in my life."

"It's true? You slept with her?" From the look on his face, I'd say he thinks I did this to spite him, not because of anything to do with Haley and I. Ass.

"Yeah, I did. Just two nights ago. Can you believe that? Two nights ago, I was sleeping with Haley, and now here we are, having some asinine conversation about it."

"Asinine?" he asks sharply, "How do you figure it's asinine? She's my ex-girlfriend and your alleged best friend. You know, Haley and your friendship with her was the one thing in your life that I always thought you did right by. What happened?"

"I snapped, Luke! Is that what you want to hear? She's been pushing me away for months if not years, and I never got the courage to ask why. So finally, I just pushed and pushed until she gave me something that made me think that, yeah, maybe she does still feel something for me. Maybe she's not ready to entirely cut me out of her life."

"And sex is your answer?" he snots, disgusted sounding, "Because that fixes all things? Do you ever learn anything?"

"Obviously not," I mutter, noticing that we're still standing near the door that is wide open. I move to shut it, and he drops the bag he's carrying onto the floor and steps over to the couch.

"You know, you'd after going through what Dan did with my mother our senior year, well, you'd think you'd have learned that maybe sex isn't always the best answer."

"That was different," I argue, "That is nothing like what happened with Haley and me."

"Then what happened with you two? Was it flowers and candles?" he taunts, obviously having figured out that it was anything but, "Was it love poems and teddy bears? No, clearly it wasn't, and clearly whatever happened really messed with Haley's head if she left."

"Yeah, I screwed up, Luke. I know I'm not a literate genius like you, but even I'm smart enough to figure out that I wrecked something I'll never get back. Nothing with Haley and I will ever be the same."

"Whose fault is that?"

"Mostly mine," I admit, fully aware of all the ways I've screwed that relationship up, "I'd never dispute that."

"Oh, how big of you," he retorts sarcastically, "And what is this of an engagement? Since it's not yours and Haley's, who's the unlucky girl?"

"Get out," I growl, pissed off that he's going to fly all the way up here and then treat me like this, "You have some nerve. Yeah, you found a lawyer to save my ass this morning, and yeah, you very temporarily lent me some money, but like I said, the check is on the counter. I don't need this from you, I have real concerns."

He shakes his head. "I knew you were in serious trouble when you chose to call me. I know I'm not at the top of your list, so I figured whatever it was, it was big. So I got on a plane after I got you the lawyer and the money. Figured that if you called me, you might actually need me."

"Why would you think I need anyone?"

"You're a lot of things, Nate, but stupid isn't one of them. Foolish, yeah, and sometimes dumb, but you aren't downright stupid. So I knew if you were getting arrested and jeopardizing your draft status, then something was seriously wrong. Speaking of foolish, I thought you might need someone, so I came. My mistake."

He doesn't make a move to leave, though, so I'm either stuck with him or lucky to have someone here. Only time will tell on this one.

"I didn't mean to hurt her," I say finally, "It just happened. I didn't plan it out, it wasn't something I'd been thinking about. We went out, we were talking like friends, and she asked about Mom and Dan, and it was hard to talk about. One minute she's comforting me, the next my hands are up her shirt."

"God, Nathan."

"I know. I know!"

"Well, she was willing, so why'd she run?" he wonders aloud, "It wasn't just your mistake to make, you know?"

"And this is where I really screwed up," I sigh, "When I woke up in the morning, I panicked. I didn't know what to do, I figured she was going to hate me and end our friendship. I couldn't face that, Luke." He nods. "I carried her into her room. She sleeps like the dead, you know."

"And you left her?"

"Yeah, I did. Went to the gym, lifted weights. When I was leaving, Susie called me, hysterical. One of the jerks on the team ran a wedding announcement for she and I in the school paper."

"Damn," he whistles. "Haley freaked out about it?"

I shrug. "She was gone by the time I got back. Judging from what Brooke said, I'm sure that only made what I did seem that much worse."

"How'd Susie take it?" he asks with a wince.

"We broke up. I guess that sums up how she thought about the idea of being engaged to me, huh? No way, no how."

"Sorry, man," and he says it with enough sincerity that I actually do believe him, although pity isn't what I want or need right now.

"Well, that's pretty much that," I sigh, ready to be done with story time.

"What about the fight? Or are we conveniently forgetting that little nugget of bad behavior? Sweeping it under the rug?"

I shake my head. "I'm not ignoring it; but it's the least of my worries."

He snorts in disbelief. "You're crazy! Do you have any idea what this is going to do to your draft status? Assault charges aren't exactly something to scoff at."

"I know that, but what difference does it make if I've screwed up every other aspect of my life? What difference does it make if I'm miserably unhappy in all other aspects of life?"

"Maybe you're right," he concedes, "But maybe basketball is your lifeline, and maybe success with that is what is going to get your life back in order. I'm not Dr. Phil or whoever and I don't know you as well as some guys know their brothers, but you're spiraling out of control, Nathan. And if I've learned one thing, it is that you have to fix yourself before you can fix your relationships."

Everything that he says makes sense, but it isn't easy advice to accept or follow. I've never had to fix anything without Haley, and now I'm going to have to ask myself to fix myself without her? Probably impossible.

"I don't know how to fix any of it," I admit in a small voice that sounds far off. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

"The beginning. Get your life back in order, and then worry about setting things straight with Haley and whoever."

"No 'whoever', just Haley," I sigh, "She's the only one I care to fix things with. There are a couple of people I owe apologies to, but she's the only one that matters if I fix things."

"Yeah, well, the first thing you're going to have to do is some damage control. Once word gets out that you were arrested, it isn't going to be pretty. Some teams might drop interest in you altogether, and the ones that don't will still have some serious questions to ask you and your agent. You know that, right?"

I nod, numb and miserable. "I don't have an agent yet," I mumble, ignoring his look of abject disbelief. "What? I've been approached by a few, but I've been putting it off. There's still a few months until the draft."

He shakes his head at me. "You'll never learn, will you? Come on, Nathan, this isn't something you put off until the last minute. You get this done, in advance, and then you're prepared for whatever shit comes up!"

"Well, I didn't! I'm not perfect, and sometimes I do stupid things, but who doesn't?"

He looks at me incredulously. "What the hell is the matter with you? Do you have any idea how selfish and stupid you are?" I look away, tired of him beating me down tonight. "Damn it, Nathan, you lucky bastard, you have this gift! This incredible gift where you can play this amazing sport better than the majority of the world could ever dream of! And by some miracle, you've managed to stay healthy, too."

When he says that last part, we both know that he is referring to his own life-changing injury. His voice isn't tinged with the bitterness that I know mine would be if our roles were reversed, but I know he wonders what if. Of course, his injury forged what little bit of a relationship he and I have, so maybe he doesn't always think of it as a total waste.

"You think I'm a waste, don't you?" I ask, suddenly needing, wanting to know his take on my life and basketball.

"You're not a waste, but you don't take care of the things that you should. But hey, it's easy for me to know what I can and can't take for granted because I had it taken away. I've had my slap in the face; maybe this is yours."

"Feels more like a sucker punch to the gut," I moan, kicking my feet up on the coffee table in front of me.

"That's how I felt at first," he sympathizes, "But you haven't lost it yet. Just get an agent – you must have some cards or something – and fill them in on what happened. Let them start damage control, maybe you won't lose it like I did."

I shake my head. "You know that basketball isn't what I'm worried about right now. That's just a game, just a sport, and it will come to an end sometime, right?"

"Like I said, it's easy for you to say that, you still have it," he argues, his tone obstinate. I know I'll never win an argument like this with him. "You have something that not many people have, and you look at it like it's a game, a toy to be thrown away because it isn't what you want to focus on."

I shrug. "I just don't think I can go around pinning my hopes on it like it's everything important in the world. You more than anyone should understand that."

He stands up and paces back and forth in front of me. "Look, it was different then. Who knows if I would've gone anywhere with it? Besides, you've screwed things up so bad for yourself that you _need_ basketball, Nathan. It's not just a fallback anymore, it's going to be your savior," he predicts.

"I'm getting a degree, Luke, I think that's my fallback."

He rolls his eyes. "You're not the fucking golden boy anymore, Nathan, you've adequately proved that, don't you think?" he sneers.

"How could I forget? I've got you here to remind me of all my raging failures and moronic inadequacies."

"What the hell does that mean? I busted your ass out of jail, where I could've left you to rot or worse yet, call Dan, and now you're accusing me of only doing it so I could throw it in your face? You're a real piece of work, Nathan."

I jump up, stepping close to him. "I didn't accuse you of anything; I think it's pretty clear what you're doing here and why." I give him a cursory glance before turning away. "Fess up, Luke. You enjoy this, right? At least a small part of you does, so just admit it."

"You're diabolical. Just because you and your perverted mind would get off on someone else's trouble doesn't mean the rest of the world would, too."

"Not the rest of the world, just you, _brother."_

"Don't call me that," he growls, "We're a lot of things to each other – enemies, reluctant supporters – but not brothers. Never brothers."

"Then why are you here?" He remains quiet, so I push my advantage. "To rub all this shit in my face. At least have the balls to admit it."

"You want the truth, man?" I nod. "You saved my life that night, whether I liked it or not. You chose to save me, and I owe you. And if that means bailing your contentious ass out of jail, so be it."

"I thought we decided that was in the past, that there were no debts to repay," I mutter, uncomfortable with the turn in the conversation. This is one place I don't like to go – it reminds me of so many things that would be better forgotten.

"Please," he scoffs, "You think that can be shoved aside, that I can compartmentalize it right out of my head? You pulled me out of that burning tow truck. If you had left me there like the 911 operator told you to, I would've blown up with the car, too."

"I just did what anyone would do," I reiterate for the thousandth time. "I wish I could've done more," I sigh, leaving unspoken the words that neither of us have ever been able to say. And probably never will, either.

As tears fill his eyes, I turn away, unable to cope with my own guilt let alone his sorrow and grief. And maybe in the end, this is exactly what divides us. Not our childhoods, so different, but so tainted by the same person, but this one event that changed so much for Luke, and even some for me.

I was a hero after it happened, after I saved Luke. Even in my failure to save our uncle, I was still exulted as something wonderful in the eyes of everyone in town. First time for everything, that's for sure. Even though I'd grown up, as Luke said, the golden boy, there were too many people who saw the truth in me for it really to be believed. But after the accident, everyone seemed to forget or ignored that I slept with every cheerleader to pass through our high school. And some from other schools. They ignored the hazing me and my teammates did to Luke and other guys we deemed not as worthy as us. It was like a giant eraser came along and wiped my slate clean.

"We all wish it turned out differently," he intones dully, and I can see the effort it takes to pull himself together. I know that he loved our uncle like a father, and that his death had a much worse effect on him than losing his basketball ability, but I've always been staggered by the depth of emotion he felt for him.

"Yeah, I know."

"Things would be different now, if he hadn't died, I mean," he points out, "Dan would never have come after my mom, and she never would've fallen for his bullshit. Your parents wouldn't be, well, whatever it is that they are now."

I chuckle a little, even though none of this is funny. "No, they wouldn't. There is no chance that they wouldn't still be the same dysfunctional assholes that they are now."

He even cracks a small smirk. "Aren't we supposed to take comfort in the fact that some things never change?"

"We all wish it turned out differently," he intones dully, and I can see the effort it takes to pull himself together. I know that he loved our uncle like a father, and that his death had a much worse effect on him than losing his basketball ability, but I've always been staggered by the depth of emotion he felt for him.

"Yeah, I know."

"Things would be different now, if he hadn't died, I mean," he points out, "Dan would never have come after my mom, and she never would've fallen for his bullshit. Your parents wouldn't be, well, whatever it is that they are now."

I chuckle a little, even though none of this is funny. "No, they wouldn't. There is no chance that they wouldn't still be the same dysfunctional assholes that they are now."

He even cracks a small smirk. "Aren't we supposed to take comfort in the fact that some things never change?"

I shake my head. "Not that, man. Anything but that."

"Yeah, I guess that whole thing is just too crazy to have any sort of comforting feelings arise from. Creepy."

"Creepy," I repeat, "Yeah, that about sums up the jerks that raised me. I bet they're going to love all this. I can almost hear Dan now."

He shudders visibly at the thought of Dan imposing his opinions about anything on whoever will listen. "Scary," he mutters, "I'm twenty-two, and the thought of him still scares me like it did when I was twelve or sixteen."

"You think there will ever be a time when he doesn't haunt either of us incessantly?" I wonder aloud, glancing over to see the grimace twist his lips.

"I don't know. How do you get past someone like Dan Scott? How do you get past the things he did, the ways he treated us? I just don't think I'll ever forget the look he gave me when he found out that Keith died and I lived."

I nod, remembering that. It was so cold, and that was the second I realized that no matter how I'm related to him, the man was evil. My father cared so little for anyone but himself that he actually wished his unacknowledged son died along with his brother.

That was the day I began to doubt myself, too. Not only did his blood flow through me, but he'd raised me. I had both nature and nurture working against me, and all of a sudden, I wonder if I was the same way Dan was. If I was the same beast that would one day not care if his family members died or came close to it. Perhaps the type of man who would wish one of them dead or be irritated when they didn't die.

"It's burned in my brain, too," I admit, "It was so chilling that I literally felt cold, like there was a breeze in the ER."

"Aside from Keith and how broken he looked," he chokes out, "That was the most horrible thing I've ever seen."

I nod, sitting back down. This has been a really draining afternoon spent with Luke, and piled on top of the events of the last few days, I feel like I've really been through the wringer.

"Maybe it gets easier at some point," I suggest, "Maybe at some point, we'll just be able to forget Dan, forget he exists, or at least forget all the times he trashed our lives."

He shakes his head. "Doubtful. How do you forget these things? Neither of us will," he predicts, "He causes all these dramas for us, these painful situations, and we're going to be the ones dealing with it for the rest of our lives."

He shakes his head. "Doubtful. How do you forget these things? Neither of us will," he predicts, "He causes all these dramas for us, these painful situations, and we're going to be the ones dealing with it for the rest of our lives."

"Yeah, you're right. He makes the mess, and we have to deal with it." I glance at him sharply. "Am I him?"

"What?"

"Am I him?" I repeat, realizing that someone else always cleans my messes – Mark was right about that.

"You aren't him, man," he sighs, pausing when he sees what I imagine is a very pleading look on my face, "You aren't. Come on, Nate, you're a complete dickhead a lot of the time, and you pull some pretty asshole-ish stunts, but that's the same as Dan. He's just so far beyond that."

"Sometimes I wonder," I admit, "I do something or say something to someone, and I wonder if that was something he'd have said or done."

"You want to know the difference between us and Dan?" he asks, to which I nod, "We know what we've done when we mess up, and we don't take joy in it. If we can, we fix it. He doesn't. When we mess up, they're mistakes, when he messes up, it's a purposeful act."

"It isn't the same."

"No, it isn't. It took me so long to realize that, too, but trust me, once you do, you're better off. Just believe that you're nothing like him."

He leaves shortly thereafter, telling me he booked himself a hotel room. I offer him Haley's room, but he declines, admitting that it's better if we don't spend too much time together. I don't ask him how long he'll be here; just tell him that I'll see him tomorrow. And I don't hate the notion, either.

He says goodbye and heads out, leaving me alone with myself and the emptiness of this place, this newly created, self-inflicted hell I live in. A part of me wants to call him on his cell phone and ask that he come back, ask that he do anything, even fight with me, if it means filling up the deafening silence and endless void in this place.

I don't, though. Instead, I go in Haley's room, and I lay on her bed. It still smells like her, this heady mix of perfume and this sugar scrub she leaves in the bathroom sometimes. My mind goes places it isn't supposed to as I think about her under me, her over me, me inside of her calling out her name. After what that night did, pushing her to move out without a word, you'd think the memories would be held at bay, but here they are, tormenting me with their realism.

And that's what haunts me as I fall asleep on her bed, my head in her pillow: the memory of us together, in a way we'd never been before, in a way I'd never let myself imagine, in a way that changed everything.


	4. The Cycles of Love and Loathing

**Chapter Three – _The Cycles of Love and Loathing_**

The first few days are hard. Harder than anything I've ever been through, and things haven't always been rosy in the past. This, though, this is so personal to me, so it just hits harder.

I can tell that Brooke is worried about me, so I guess that means my effort put towards putting up a good front are completely for naught. I don't want her to feel like she has to worry about me, but she is right now. She's been awesome, though, and I really don't know what I'd do without her.

We don't talk about him or any of the things that led to me staying here. There is just nothing about that I'm ready to talk about yet, not in terms of Nathan. Brooke saw him when she went over the day after I left to get a few things for me, and she said he looked rough, but I requested that she not tell me anymore. I just wasn't ready to hear it.

Now, though, I'm thinking of asking her what happened when she went over there. She won't like it when I do; she'll accuse me of acting weak towards him again and giving him an opening, no matter how unintentional. I can hear it now. 'Haley, you can't let him in again, he's just going to hurt you. Look at what he's already done,' she'd say.

And she wouldn't be wrong. Oh, how painfully aware of that fact I am. The blows he threw at my ego are astoundingly huge, and in some ways it feels like the bruises left behind keep getting bigger and bigger. It's logical to assume that everything within me, all this pain and frustration and anger will dissipate someday, and maybe I won't even think about it, but in the here and now, it is consuming.

"Haley James!" Brooke yells from the kitchen of her house, "Get your scrawny ass down here now!"

I jog into the kitchen, looking at her expectantly. "What the hell are you bellowing at me for? You knew I was just in the other room."

"I just wanted to get your attention," she smiles sweetly. I roll my eyes at her and sit down at the counter on one of the barstool. "So, I figure we have two options," she announces once I'm settled, "One, we stay here and you mope tonight, or two, we get dressed up all fabulously and hit the town."

"I don't know," I sigh, knowing which option she'll obviously push for, "I don't know if I'm ready to go out. God, what if we run into you know who?"

She snorts in amusement, "Oh, honey, there is no way that will happen." I raise an eyebrow at her, the question unasked. "Look, I know you didn't want me to tell you about what he looked like when I stopped by there, but he was trashed. Someone kicked his ass but good, and judging by the bruises and cuts on his hands, he did his fair share of ass kicking. So don't feel sorry for him."

It's my turn to snort. "Please, like I'd feel sorry for him after everything. I'm just sorry I wasn't the one to kick his ass."

She laughs, genuinely this time. "So, can we talk about a few things I've found out?" she asks tentatively, "Because you might not think you want to know, but you'd kick my ass later if I didn't tell you."

"Okay," I drawl out, "Go ahead, I guess."

She looks nervous, and that surprises me. I can't imagine what she'd have to feel nervous about in terms of discussing Nathan with me. "Here, you should see this first," she tells me, handing me the newspaper.

I take it with a shaking hand, the part of me that is bitter against Nathan steeling myself for whatever it says. Another, kinder, gentler part of me, is genuinely curious as to what the paper holds. Scanning the article Brooke points out, my eyes raise to hers in surprise. "It was a joke?"

She shrugs. "Yeah, I guess so. They printed a retraction, and Javey apologized publicly for it."

"Okay, wow," I mumble, feeling dizzy over this development. If I was wrong about this, could I be wrong about anything else?

"Don't even think it," Brooke warns, "Don't let those wheels start turning and making you think that maybe he's not the planets biggest, evilest jerk ever."

"No, he's not," I correct, smiling a little when she looks dubious. "Believe me, I met that man, and Nathan has nothing on him."

"Right," she says slowly, "Well, I still hope you're not thinking that this absolves him because he doesn't deserve that. Not after what he did to you."

I shake my head. "I can't," I say simply, "I think the only thing I'll always remember about this is that he dumped me in my own bed. Basically kicked me out. God, Brooke, he never even kissed me on the mouth. What does that tell you?"

"You had bad breath?" she wonders, shrugging.

"I'd have figured you'd be a 'Pretty Woman' fan," I comment, laughing at her bewildered look, "Sorry, it's just in the movie, Julia Roberts' character was a hooker who wouldn't kiss her, um, clients on the mouth. Too intimate. So the fact that he didn't kiss me on the mouth suggests that he didn't really want to be intimate with me, right?"

"Did he kiss you in other places?" she asks, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

I roll my eyes at her juvenile giggling. "Yes, he did, but that's beside the point. He didn't kiss me, not really."

"So what? For the record, it sounds like what he did was way more intimate, at least in my estimation. But more importantly, who cares? He treated you like crap all around. What difference does that make?"

I shrug. "I don't know, it just mattered to me. And it kind of feels like it sums up everything between us, you know? I'm worth so little to him that he can't even kiss my lips when we're – we're, you know."

"If you can't say it, you shouldn't do it," she teases. I flip her off tiredly, and she just smirks at me. "Look, I'm not trying to make you feel bad, really. Make that worse, he's already made you feel bad enough, I guess."

"Brooke," I sigh.

"Sorry, sorry. Um, maybe I shouldn't point this out, but did you read all the way through the article?"

Picking it back up off the counter, I quickly skim through to the end, gasping when I read that Nathan and Susie have since broken up. "Oh, my God, they broke up. The day that the engagement was made in the paper. Brooke!"

"Don't get all excited about it, Haley!" she exclaims, "Look, I showed you this because you needed to know, not so that you'd think maybe he wasn't such a creep. Because he is a creep! Don't let yourself forget that just because he broke up with that little twit."

"I'm not forgetting that. I couldn't even if I wanted to, and I don't. I'm just reacting to the news, that's all," I groan, defensive, "Not only is he not engaged, but he's not even seeing Susie anymore. I don't know what to make of that!"

She shakes her head sadly at me. "You're so going to give into his shit again, aren't you? Because it is certainly starting to look that way to me."

"Like I said, I couldn't even if I wanted to." I rest my chin on my hands. "Brooke, even if I forgave him, I don't think I could forget, you know? Even if he had intended on breaking up with Susie all along, which I doubt he did, he still made it perfectly clear that sleeping with me wasn't something he cared that much about."

She nods. "So, who is the hot blonde guy that was at Nathan's when I went over to get those books you forgot?"

I shrug, a little stab to my heart when she refers to it as just Nathan's place. "What'd he look like? It was probably a guy he plays pick-up ball with."

"Blonde, spiky hair, like he's a dumb boy who doesn't know how to make it look normal. Um, really gorgeous blue eyes, built nicely. Know him?"

"I don't know. Brooke, you know Nathan and I haven't been spending much time together, it stands to reason that I wouldn't necessarily know this guy."

"He knew you." I glance at her in surprise. "Yup, he sure did," she confirms at my look, "I don't know, there was a weird vibe between him and Nathan. Almost like they didn't even like each other much. You'd think that from all the glaring. Well, Nathan couldn't really glare, what with the one eye black and the other swollen almost shut, but you get the picture."

My breath catches in my throat and concern for him threatens to overwhelm me. "How bad was he hurt? Was he okay?"

She looks at me in a pitying, sad way, but doesn't say anything. "I don't know, he looked like he got his ass kicked. But if Susie broke up with him, he was probably looking for a fight. And it just looked like he got it. He wasn't dying or anything."

She keeps giving me that look like I'm mentally ill for still caring what happens to him. "He was my best friend since the first day we met," I begin softly, wanting her to understand that some bonds can't be broken overnight, "A fifth grader was picking on him. We were in kindergarten at the time, and I stopped that jerk from picking on him."

"Typical," she snorts, "He needed you to do something for him. Did he ever do anything for you? Anything to protect you?"

"All the time," I answer softly, sadly. "When we were in the second grade, our class was doing an outdoor project, and one of the kids other disturbed a beehive. When we were running away from it, I fell and was getting stung. Nathan was the only one, including the teacher, who came back for me."

"He was seven then," she reasons, "He still had plenty of time to realize his full asshole potential from that point. Which he did."

"And then, when we started junior high, I was still really shy, and these popular girls were picking on me. Nathan made them stop, and throughout the rest of high school, he was never once nice to them. And our freshman year of high school, I took my parents car out for a 'test drive' before I got my license, and when I hit the mailbox, he fixed the mailbox and tried to take the fall for taking the car." I smile at the memory. "My parents saw through it, but he insists to this day to them that he was the one who did it."

"Once a liar, always a liar," she sighs.

"And then, when my high school boyfriend broke up with me because Nathan was my best friend and I wouldn't turn against him, something I wasn't going to compromise no matter the relation between them, Nathan was the one who stood by me. He never treated me badly for dating Luke, even though he hated him as much as Luke hated him."

"Okay, I'm officially confused by this story, but do go on," she rolls her eyes.

"Luke is Nathan's brother," I explain, "And they were taught to hate each other as they grew up. Nathan saved Luke's life one night, and they've had a truce of sorts ever since but it is still never easy for them."

"Maybe that's who was at Nathan's apartment," she muses thoughtfully, "I mean, the blonde hair kind of throws you off that track, but it seems like they could be brothers."

"No. No way. I cannot imagine a single scenario in which Luke would come to town. He – he only tolerates Nathan to the point of obligation and gratitude, and Nathan is still so uncomfortable and unsure around him. There is just no way those two would voluntarily spend time together like this."

She shrugs. "I don't know, whoever it was, they had some really weird vibe between them. It seemed weird the blonde guy was there."

"Damn, maybe it is Luke," I sigh, now worried about Nathan having to deal with him.

"Well, maybe it's him, maybe it isn't," she sighs at my expression, "And who cares anyway? It's not like you want to hang out with anyone associated with Nathan, do you?"

"No, of course not," I agree, knowing it is what she wants to hear from me, "I don't want Nathan to have any part in my life, but at the same time, I still don't want him to be hurt, not the way Lucas could hurt him, anyway."

"You're too soft," Brooke sighs, "You should be out for blood with him, Haley! He did everything that you shouldn't want to have done to you, and you still feel bad for him! I don't get it!"

I shake my head, understanding her point, but not agreeing with it wholeheartedly. "First, I can't turn off my emotions with the flip of the switch. You know that. And second, I know the whole story of the Nathan/Lucas saga, and I know it is filled with harsh words, lies, tragedy, and grief. And I know that even if I'm angry with him and want to cut him out of my life, that Nathan still doesn't deserve to relive that through Luke's visit."

She's quiet for a minute, digesting my words. "Well, I don't want to see you hurt again, not by that slick piece of slime, and I'm afraid you're going to put yourself in that position. I'm sorry, but I don't have the desire to watch him drag you through the mud again. He's left you dirty enough this time."

"Brooke," I cut in, stopping when she puts a hand up in the air.

"No, listen to me, Haley! I can't make your decisions for you, and even if I even keep trying, you'll probably just grow to resent and hate me, anyway. So I won't do that. But I will also tell you this right now: Nathan is a grade A asshole. You couldn't change it before, and I don't see a chance in hell of you ever being able to change that. He's a womanizer and he's a liar, and he treats even his best friend like she's an object for him to use, to play with. I'm sorry if this isn't what you want to hear, but from where I'm standing, it's the truth."

I mull over her words quietly, ignoring her as she waits for my response. "I know these things. I know that nothing with Nathan will ever turn out the way I'd let myself hope it would, and I know that he'll never want me the same way I wanted him. Believe me, no one understands that better than I do. It's just that, even knowing he'll never feel the same, and he'll never be what I want him to be, there is this part of me that does still think of him as my best friend. I think that is the part of me that rebels against wanting to see him hurt."

She walks around the counter and puts an arm around me. "I'm sorry that you've been so hurt by him. All I want is to make sure he doesn't get the chance to do that again. You understand that, right? Where I'm coming from, I mean?"

"I'd do the same for you," I smile, hugging her back. "So I do understand, even if I do think you're being too hard on Nathan in general. He's not so bad, he's just…a little messed up, I guess."

She shrugs. "Well, are we going out or are we going out?" she chirps, changing to a much more pleasant subject.

"Yeah, we can go out," I smile, sort of relieved to have a chance to get out of the house for awhile. Aside from class, I've been spending all my time here for the most part. I haven't even gone to the grocery store for fear of seeing Nathan.

It's a ridiculous and unfounded fear. I have no logical reason to feel these nerves, this sense of apprehension at facing him. The day where I do will come, and most likely sooner than later. I run through scenarios in my mind – what he'd say to me, what I should say to him in response. None of it is flattering, most of it is angry, and I would probably regret all of them later.

I neither want nor need anymore regrets where Nathan is concerned. Perhaps that is where at least some of the apprehension comes in. Fear of making things worse. It is not something that should concern me, as it shouldn't matter whether things get even more difficult between us since we'll never go back to how we were.

Brooke leaves to run some errands and to pick up some alcohol so that we can do a little pre-funking before hitting the bars tonight. It sounds good to me – I know I'm going to need something to help me relax, and while I know alcohol isn't the best thing for that, I'm not too worried about it for the time being. If I have to use it as an icebreaker to make it through classes, then that's a problem. But this isn't so bad.

It's good, though, that we'll be getting out of here tonight. Maybe I'll even manage to have some fun. If Brooke is correct and Nathan isn't in the shape to be going out, then maybe I'll even be able to put him out of my mind and not be nervous that we'll run into him, which would be horrible. I can just see Brooke going after him.

It doesn't matter, though. It won't be hard to ignore him if he shows up, and in fact, I'd take great pleasure in doing just that. Nothing pisses off Nathan Scott more than being ignored, and I know for a fact he will probably be desperate to talk to me. In effect, it would be the best revenge I could get on him.

But it is irrelevant, because if Brooke is right, he's too shame-faced to go anywhere these days. Which is good, and serves him right. After what he's done, I don't feel much pity for the state of his social life. If it sucks, that's his own problem, and it has nothing to do with me. He made his bed.

"Hurry up, Brooke!" I giggle, already warmed from the alcohol I've been consuming, "I'm ready to go!"

"You're pushy when you're drunk," she smirks, "I think I might like this side of you." I roll my eyes at her in the mirror. "Usually its me pushing you to hurry so we can go out, I can't complain about the tables being turned, you know?"

"Well, you shouldn't, anyway," I reason. I twirl in a little circle, nearly falling on my face when I trip over one of Brooke's shoes.

"Good going, dork," she snickers, "Are you even going to make it through the night? You're pretty well toasted already. If you puke, I'll kill you."

"Oh, I will so not puke," I mutter, glaring at her, "I haven't even had close to that much yet!"

"Then why are you so giggly and happy already?" she mutters, "Because you're chirping like a hyper bird on crack."

"You over-exaggerate," I laugh, "I'm just excited to be getting out of this place, even if it is only for the night. Besides, school is almost out for the summer, and I've got a great internship to look forward to, and then voila! Med school!"

"You get excited about weird things," she points out, twisting her hair up into a twirly bun I'm immediately jealous that I didn't think to do with my hair.

"Brookie?" I pout, trying not to laugh when she rolls her eyes, "Do my hair all cute and up like yours?"

I'd already curled my hair, and it looked cute if not a little young. "Sure, I'd be happy to," she grins as we trade places so that I'm sitting in front of her, "I thought you were going to ask something hard or something."

"Like what?" I laugh, unable to get far enough into her crazy mind to figure out what she would possibly be thinking.

"I don't even know," she admits with a shrug, "But I'm sure it would've been something terribly irritating or something."

"Gee, thanks," I reply in a dry manner, "You can't hear that you're irritating often enough, now can you?"

"Hey, I hear it way more than you!" she protests.

"Well, that's because you are intentionally irritating to certain people." She nods in agreement. "So, don't get all 'poor me' on me now."

"Oh, fine," she smiles, "As if I'm ever that bad!"

"No, you're not," I agree. And it's true, Brooke is a whole lot of things, but a whiner isn't one of them. And even if she was, she's a damn good friend, and I doubt I'd condemn her for it.

"Alright, let's go!" she grins, jumping up from her chair, her breasts practically spilling over the top of her tube top.

"Brooke," I groan, gesturing, "Are they going to do that all night? I really don't want to be stuck on decency patrol tonight! I want to have fun!"

"Want to bet whose top falls down first?" she smirks, "Because yours isn't holding up all that much better than mine."

I glance down, seeing she's right. "Oh, God, I'll got get the double stick tape."

"None for me, thanks," she winks, and I roll my eyes at her. "Hey, Mr. Football Stud might be there tonight, and I need to impress upon him how worth skipping class I am."

"Are you still mad at him for that?" I ask, incredulous.

"Why shouldn't I be?" she gripes as she grabs her purse. I add the tape to my ensemble, making sure none of it is noticeable, rolling my eyes at her. "I can't believe you're using that tape," she sighs, before re-launching into her ranting, "Anyway, he might not have thought I was worth a nooner with if it meant missing his class last week, but he won't have any doubt in his mind which is the better option after tonight."

"Oh, my God, you're hopeless," I mutter, checking my purse for my keys, phone and pepper spray. All the better to run into Nathan with. Ahem. Not that I'd do that. Right.

By the time we get to the house that the party is at, things look like they're pretty much out of control. People have spilled out onto the lawn, and the music is loud enough to hear down two blocks away. There are several kegs on the front porch, and plenty of people walking around with their own personal fifths of liquor swinging wildly. I practically feel hungover just looking at them, and I make a mental note to go easy tonight.

"Where are we going if they bust this up?" Brooke asks, already making plans so that her party won't stop all night.

"I don't care," I shrug, "Anywhere you want."

"Will you kill me if I say the basketball house?" I give her a look. "I'm sorry, it's just I ran into Mark yesterday in class – probably the first day all quarter we've both been in there since syllabus day – and he told me they're having a thing tonight, too. Not like this, but medium sized. He won't be there, you know he won't."

"Brooke," I begin, not wanting to deal with people who know both Nathan and me. Sighing, I decide to give in and go on the hope that this party doesn't get shut down. "Fine, whatever," I agree.

"Great!" she squeals, "It'll be fine if we go there, I promise!"

I nod, and drop the subject as we walk into the party. It is so crowded that I can't even get far enough away from anyone to even know if I recognize them or not. Of course, I don't know all that many people who hang out with the football team, anyway, and I'm such a dorky bookworm most of the time that I'm studying when everyone else is partying. Brooke would probably disagree with that, as she has dragged me out at least one night each weekend for about the past two years, but still.

Brooke still has a hold on my wrist as she drags me through the sweaty hordes of people towards the mercifully cooler area of the kitchen. It is off-limits, but Brooke being Brooke, has connections, and we are immediately let in. There are a few guys and some girls that actually look like they might be down to earth enough to like, so I relax a little and make small talk when Brooke introduces me.

I'm actually having fun, and don't object when the rest of the people I've met, along with Brooke, want to move out to the dance floor. I take another shot, and follow them out the door. Its fun, dancing in the dark of the living room, even though it is crowded and hot, and I don't even object when one of the guys I just met pulls me to him. I just laugh, and go with the flow, something I'm not usually so good at.

But it feels good to let loose tonight, break free of the bonds I've put on myself. It helps me forget things, and that's nice for a change. Brooke dances to me, and throws an arm around my shoulder, and dances with me and the guy I was dancing with. We're all laughing and smiling and singing along with the music, and it is a genuinely fun time for me.

When it gets too overwhelmingly stuffy, I make my way back to the back porch, and take a seat on the edge, letting my feet dangle into the grass below. There are a ton of couples out here, all in various degrees of making out, and usually I think I'd feel uncomfortable both being alone and just watching them. It seems irrelevant tonight, possibly due to my newfound ability to throw caution to the wind and engage in sex in public.

Funny how an event like that can color your perspective so drastically.

It has, though. I feel like everything has changed, all due to one night of sex – _mind-blowing sex_ – with Nathan. It's odd; everyone says or assumes that your first time will change you, change things. Not so, at least for me. I didn't feel different after, I didn't feel like the world had changed. Not even my outlook changed.

My night with Nathan changed everything – me, my perspective, the way I feel, the way I act. I suppose that this constitutes giving it too much power, but I can't stop feeling this way, like everything is fundamentally different. I feel fundamentally different.

And I don't want to. I don't want him to have this much power over me still, even after the way he just dumped me in my bed and left the next morning. He doesn't deserve anything from me, not after the way he acted, not after the way he got me into his bed even though he clearly didn't want me there.

No one has ever had the power to make me feel as bad as Nathan does, and that's my fault not his. I've given him this incredible power to hurt me, and he's used it. Maybe the fault really lies with me, then. I just don't know anymore.

And maybe it is time to stop caring. Maybe Brooke is right, and I shouldn't worry about what happens to Nathan. I'm dealing with the consequences of my actions, and he should have to deal with the consequences of his. And anyway, it isn't my place to worry about him or what happens to him now. He made that clear.

"Cops are out front," Brooke casually announces as she wanders onto the deck, snickering as the clearly under-aged people go scattering. "So, we still going over to the basketball house?" she asks.

I shrug, getting to my feet. "If you want to, I won't deny you that pleasure," I reply, still not thrilled about the idea, but she's right – he probably won't be there.

"Yeah?" I nod. "Look, I know I said something along the lines of 'I won't take no for an answer', but I totally would."

I nod again. "I know that. And maybe that's part of the reason I'm willing to go there with you. For you." She laughs, linking her arm with mine. "Okay," I say, releasing a shaky breath, "Let's go before I change my mind."

It's a short walk, and we're both quiet on the way there. Brooke keeps looking at me in concern, but she doesn't annoy me by asking a thousand times if I'm alright. As we're walking up the path, she does squeeze my hand, though, and I grin at her, letting her know that no matter what, I'll be fine. Tonight, tomorrow, always.

The door swings open before we even knock, and we are greeted by Markus, who seems to always be on door duty. He gives both of us huge hugs, keeping his arm around me as he begins talking a mile a minute to us.

"Haley Bo Baley," he grins, bringing me back to the conversation. I'd been looking around inside, trying to make sure that Nathan wasn't there and that I wouldn't have to deal with him tonight. "What brings you out tonight? Couldn't resist coming over and trying to get with me one last time before graduation?" he teases with a wink at Brooke.

"Why would she do that when I've already told how not worth it those scant two minutes are?" Brooke retorts smugly.

He bites back a smile, nudging me. "Lack of interest in partner is what that amounts to," he whispers just loud enough for her to hear him. I can't help but laugh at the two of them, shrugging out from under his heavy arm and making my way into the house.

"Have fun," I call to them over my shoulder. They both half nod at me, paying way more attention to each other than me. I imagine I'll be going home alone tonight, and that I'll be picking Brooke up sometime tomorrow.

There are plenty of people here, and I have to step carefully not to stomp on any hands of the people sitting on the ground in circles playing card games. But it isn't crowded like the last hell we were in, and being keenly aware of the fact that there is no Nathan here, I relax immediately.

Jake, the guy behind the bar, is a senior I've known practically since my first minute of college. He was Nathan's roommate in the dorms, and he's just an all-around nice guy. We've hung out with him a lot over the years, and he's also pre-med, so he and I have a lot in common and have always got along well. He smiles when he sees me approaching.

"Hey, Jake, how's it going? I haven't seen you in forever," I comment, smiling when he hands me an ice water. "You're a lifesaver," I remark after taking a sip.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," he grins, "I've been busy trying to ensure I graduate with honors. Since I'm not going to get drafted, I figured I better make sure I get the best med school possible."

"Good for you," I smile, a little sorry for him. He's not like Nathan and Markus and some of the other guys who always seemed to just play basketball with a natural ease and effortless talent that most would envy; he always had to work hard and fight for every position he got on a team. "Which schools are you looking at?"

"It was hard to realize the NBA wasn't for me," he admits as I step around the bar to get out of the way, "But I've gotten used to the idea, and I think I'll make a good doctor eventually. I've been accepted at Penn, Duke, and UNC. Haven't decided yet. I'm one of those procrastinators."

"I think you will make an excellent doctor," I agree, taking another sip of my water.

"What about you? Which lucky med school gets the talented Ms. Haley?"

I nod. "Ugh, I'm going to Duke," I sigh, only half sorry about it. I can live in Tree Hill, this way, and save on rent. He smiles knowingly. "I've wanted to be a doctor since I was six and Nathan's mom gave me one of those toy doctor's bags for my birthday, and I'm not going to let the fact that I don't to live with my parents again stop me."

"Good for you. Speak of the devil, where is Scott tonight?" He shakes his head. "Ever since that stuff went down last week with Susie and Javey and the fight and jail, he's been making himself scarce. What the hell happened to set him off?"

Jail? I'd love to ask about that, but at the same time, I don't want to give him more of a reason to ask questions of me. So, I shrug, definitely not wanting to go into anything. "I don't really know. I'm staying with Brooke now."

"What?" he asks sharply, and I want to smack myself for telling him of all people. He knows how close Nathan and I were, and he knows that it would take something drastic for one of us to leave the other.

"I – it's nothing, Jake. I don't want to talk about it, anyway." He looks at me sharply, possibly understanding too well. He is one of the few people here who have figured out that I felt more for Nathan than I cared for him to know, so of course he is equally aware of how one-sided it is. Oddly enough, he is the only one who has ever tried to make me think it isn't as one-sided as I know it is.

"Bullshit, what'd he do this time?" he asks shrewdly, "I mean, you don't blame him for that stupid prank that Javey pulled, do you?"

I shake my head, sighing. "Look, it has nothing to do with that. I mean, that is completely between them and Susie. I don't even know any of the story behind it, okay?" I ask, my voice coming out sharper than I'd meant for it to.

"Hey, sorry," he sighs, putting his hands up in surrender, "I won't push, but you can't tell me that it's nothing. Nathan is in a fouler mood than I've ever seen, and he's close to blowing everything, Haley. Rumor has it he's blowing off getting an agent, having to deal with court bullshit isn't going to make him more desirable to any teams that might be scouting him."

How have I not heard of any of this? "Jake, I really don't know. I didn't even know he was in trouble with the courts, okay?" I admit.

He blinks in surprise. "You didn't know that? How long have you been gone?"

I shrug. "I left last Sunday. Haven't even gone back for the rest of my stuff yet," wincing at his look of shock, "It's complicated, Jake, let it go, okay?"

He shakes his head. "You know I'm not going to do," he responds with a wry smile, grabbing my glass and guiding me toward the stairs. He signals for someone to take over the bar, and he marches me up the stairs. We go into the game room, which is empty, and take seats on the chairs in there. "What the hell happened? And don't give me nothing, or tell me it isn't a big deal, because I know you both, and I know that whatever it was, it is a big deal."

I let myself sink back into the cushions of the big, overstuffed recliner I'm sitting on, rubbing my hands over my face. "It was awful," I admit, "I – we just let things go too far one night, and it was all too clear in the morning what a mistake that was, and I left. I couldn't take it, I couldn't stay there knowing how little he wanted me."

"Oh, Haley," he sighs, looking sorry for me, "You just up and left? Without talking to him about it first?"

"He left first!" I cry, "I woke up that morning, back in my own bed when we'd been in his! He moved me out of his bed, and then he left! What was I supposed to do, to think?"

"Hey, I'm not accusing you of anything," he protests, "I'm just trying to figure out what the hell is going on." I nod, fighting the tears threatening to fall again. "How'd it happen?"

"How'd we end up sleeping together?" I ask bitingly, "Oh, this is great. He took me down to the beach, a spot where you had to the hop the fence to get to. And I hate fences, but I did it anyway, _for him_, that's how stupid I am. We just talked about things that I'm probably the only one he can talk about with, and I don't know, what started out as comfort led to something more."

He smiles sadly. "I'm sorry, Haley. I always figured that when you two finally got together that it'd be a good thing, and that you'd both be really happy."

I sniffle, looking away from him. The pity is too much to take right now. "I just – I kept my space from him for so long so something like this wouldn't happened, but it did anyway. And I knew he didn't feel the same way, but why was I so repulsive to him he had to move me out of his bed?" I cry, trying not to breakdown into full out sobbing.

He moves over to me, sitting on the arm of my chair, and awkwardly leans down and wraps his arms around me. "I'm sorry, Haley, I shouldn't have made you talk about this." I nod, and he pulls me closer. "He's crazy, you know. To not want you."

"I'm the crazy one," I retort, "To ever have let my guard down around him, to ever think that maybe – just maybe – he felt even a sliver of what I did. I'm so dumb!"

"No, you aren't. I thought he felt the same way," he sighs, "I really thought I saw something, some change when he was with you, around you, even talking about you."

"Then you're dumb, too," I manage to joke, sliding over so he can sit down next to me on the chair. I throw my legs over his lap when he's situated.

"At least I'm in good company," he agrees with a smile.

"I'm glad someone thinks so," I laugh, brushing away the last of my tears. "What happened to Nathan? You mentioned jail?" I ask incredulously.

"He got drunk and belligerent last Sunday, and ended up trespassing and kicking the shit out of the property owner. Rumor has it that his lawyer is negotiating to get the guy to drop the charges. No one really knows much," he admits.

I shake my head, pretty stunned that Nathan would get into a drunken brawl and get his ass hauled off to jail. "What was he thinking?"

Jake shrugs. "Probably not much. I wasn't here Sunday, but the guys said he was in pretty bad shape. Drank an entire fifth of whiskey, never talked to anyone but Mark, and would've fought Javey if the guys hadn't stopped, said some serious shit to Mark before stumbling out of here."

"Wow," I breathe, "I can't believe he got into a fight. I mean, Nathan is a lot of things, but he's never been a fighter. Not since he and – well, he hasn't fought with anyone in a long time."

"Yeah, well, I hear he worked that guy over pretty good. I also heard he looks just as bad, so who knows?"

"I – well, I hope he figures out a way to get out of that," I mutter, not wanting to feel any sympathy or ponder his motives in this matter, "Sounds like he's dug himself a big hole."

He sighs, sensing my withdrawal. "Well, I guess we'll see what happens. It's in all the papers, a lot of people are talking about it. I can't believe you missed it."

I shrug. "Frankly, after what happened Sunday morning, I had no desire to know what was going on anywhere. I guess it's odd I didn't hear anything about it in class, though. Why Brooke didn't tell me, though," I trail off, sighing.

"Nah, the dorks in our classes have all our nerdy science things to talk about. They aren't interested in which basketball player is getting in trouble this week," he jokes.

"Watch it! You might be a dorky science guy, I'm not a science dork, thank you!," I laugh, elbowing him. "Thanks for telling me all of that. And thanks for letting me cry," I add, "Brooke's great, but I think her perspective is a little off when it comes to me and Nathan."

He snorts, "A little? I've never seen someone hate someone so much for so little reason. Seriously, what did he ever do to her?"

I shrug. "Nothing that I know of, she's just protective of me."

"Okay, that's weird," he points out, "Maybe she's in love with you."

"Oh, Jake," I laugh, "As if. She's more in love with herself, bless her, than she'd ever be with anyone else, let alone me. She's just a good friend."

"Then I'm glad you have her. And I'm glad she likes boys, because she's so hot it'd be a shame to lose her," he grins, "But keep in mind that when it comes to Nathan, she has a huge bias, and she's probably not the best person to talk things out with. I'm just saying."

I nod. "I know that. It doesn't matter, though, because she was right, wasn't she? I mean, she said he was a worthless jerk, and she wasn't too far off."

"I don't know about that. Come on, Haley, you know Nathan. He can be of questionable morality, but has he ever done anything to hurt you? To hurt anyone he really cares about?"

"That's beside the point now," I counter, not giving him the answer we both know is the truth. "I just – I can't trust him anymore, and so even if he didn't do it intentionally, it's there. It is out there, and I can't see past it."

"Okay," he agrees, groaning as he pulls his big body out of the chair, "Let's go rejoin the party."

"I better stop in the bathroom and make sure I don't have raccoon eyes," I laugh, knowing I must look pretty gross after all the sweating and crying I've done tonight.

"Good idea," he winks.

"Hey, you're supposed to be a gentleman and say I look great, no matter what. What kind of friend are you?" I joke, feigning shock.

"The honest kind that won't lie to you, even to appease your vanity?" he guesses.

"Oh, aren't you just too good to be true," I roll my eyes as he hoists himself out of the chair, "A real prince among men."

He grins at me as he lets go of my hands. "Don't you forget it, little lady."

"Oh, I take back every good thought of you I've ever had," I intone dramatically, crinkling my nose in distaste, "I can't believe you called me 'little lady'!"

"It's a label of endearment," he says goofily, "And what's this about you having thoughts of me? Sexy thoughts, by any chance?"

"Oh, Jake, how highly we think of ourselves, hmm?"

"Hey, I know I'm a stud," he grins, looking proud of himself, "Plenty of little hotties want me. Plenty of the not-so-hot ones, too."

"I don't doubt it for a second," I smile, patting him on the arm. "Bathroom," I point, and go in. He was right: I do look frightening. There are tiny streaks and pools of mascara under both eyes, and my cheeks are flushed.

I wash my face and reapply mascara and a little lip gloss. Since the double sided tape is bothering me, I remove it from my shirt and then step back out, surprised to find Jake waiting for me. "Hey, you could've gone on without me," I tell him.

"Now, why would I do that? You're clearly the most interesting person here to talk to, and since I haven't seen or talked to you in a really long time, now seems like a good time to catch up. Unless you have more important people to hang out with?"

"Who could be more important than you?" I grin, linking arms with him as we head for the stairs. It has grown a little busier up here as couples are stumbling around in and out of doors looking for available rooms. Jake and I roll our eyes at each other. "Gross," I laugh.

"Gross with those boys, yummy with me," he winks, and I smack him on the arm, exasperated. "What, come on, the jokes are fun," he protests.

"The jokes are fun, but somehow I doubt you're joking here as you build up your sense of self," I tease.

"What sense of self?" he asks, "I have no sense of anything. I'm completely senseless in every way."

"Now that I'd like to see," I laugh. We walk into the kitchen where Brooke is sitting next to Mark with a bunch of other people crowded around the table playing some game. She climbs over onto Mark's lap when she sees us, and waves us into her vacated chair.

"You two can share that chair, and then join our little game," she announces loudly, giggling as Mark's hand creeps under her shirt. Nope, definitely not coming home tonight.

"Thanks, Davis," Jake says cheerfully as he playfully pulls me onto his lap, "Your permission to do anything is all I needed to be happy in this world."

"Happy to oblige you," she grins, clearly drunk past the point of having an ability to recognize sarcasm.

"You're drunk," I comment loudly to her, scowling at Mark as his hand slides higher and higher. He just grins at me.

"I know! Everyone should be drunk! It's Saturday, Hales!"

"Now she's a calendar," Jake jokes, loosely wrapping his arms around my waste, "Brooke, you just get more flexible every time I see you."

"Thanks, I've been practicing. It's hard to be as limber as I am. But I have found that it makes the sex more enjoyable if I can be more flexible for certain – "

"Woah, there Tiger," Mark jumps in as the rest of the table laughs, "There are a few things that not everybody needs to know about, okay?"

"Oh, don't worry, even if they want me, I'll still go home with you tonight," she assures with a pat on the cheek. I try and stifle my laughter, and I can feel Jake doing the same.

"Well, this is educational," Jake intones. "Anyway, what are we playing?" he asks when things around the table quiet down.

"Strip Go Fish!" one of the girls sitting across from us shouts out enthusiastically, and now that I've noticed her, I see that she has indeed already lost her shirt in the game. Or so I assume it is gone because of the game.

"Strip Go Fish?" Jake echoes dubiously, "I mean, out of all the games in the world, this is what a group of somewhat intelligent college students come up with?"

I elbow him, trying to shush him. I, for one, think this will be at least somewhat amusing, if not completely hilarious. Especially since I'm pretty much sober now.

"Just go with the flow, Jakie," I encourage, groaning when he bounces me, "Stop, I'll be sick! And you do not want me to be sick!"

"Both of you shut up!" Brooke orders gleefully, clearly in charge of this little gathering. The other girls at the table are looking her like she's a queen, so they are clearly freshmen. Everyone obeys her, including Jake and I, and the table quiets down. "Okay, so, I'll go first because….well, because I said so!"

The game starts, and we actually do play Go Fish, which is about the most bizarre thing I've done since being in college. It is fun, though, and Jake and I end up winning every hand – probably because we've had the least to drink – and end up not needing to take any of our clothes off.

Just as things are finally winding down, everyone falls silent, except Brooke, who is trying to talk Markus into removing his boxers instead of his shirt. It takes me a second to divert my focus from their little escapades, and when I do, I'm immediately sorry. For some awful reason, Nathan has apparently decided tonight was the night for him to come out of hiding.

I tense on Jake's lap, moving to get up and run away, but his steadying arms around my waist stop me. "Don't let him drive you out of here," he whispers in my ear.

"Why's everyone so quiet all of a sudden?" Brooke yells out, looking around, "Hello, somebody tell Mark – you!" She practically starts hissing when she sees Nathan, but he doesn't even take his eyes off of me long enough to acknowledge her. "What in the name of Michael Jordan do you think you're doing here, you sorry piece of shit?" she barks out at him, fighting to get away from Mark who has her tight around the waist.

"Brooke, stop it," I whisper at her, glad to focus my attention on her instead of him. She gives no indication of having heard me, though, and continues yelling at him.

"What, now you're too good to even answer? How dare you? How fucking dare you?" she screams as I jump off of Jake to help Mark calm Brooke down.

Everyone else in the room is staring at Brooke and Nathan like they're on fire as Jake heads over to Nathan, and I can quietly hear him asking him to leave.

I don't do anything, just stare at the wall behind Brooke and wish that the floor would swallow me up. I hear Nathan protesting that he just needs to talk to me, that if I'll talk to him for a few minutes, he'll leave and won't cause anymore of a scene. Jake manages to convince him to leave, something I am forever grateful for. I just don't have the energy to face him right now, not all tired and drained and recently crying like this.

Things settle down quickly after that, and aside from a few prying glances, no one makes a big deal out of it and no one asks any questions. The little side party we had disperses pretty quickly after that, leaving just Brooke, Jake and Markus in here with me.

"Well, that was interesting," Markus comments, eyebrows raised, "What the hell happened with you and Nathan?"

"Brooke can fill you in later," I sigh, "I do not feel like talking about him anymore tonight. Are you all clear? No more talking about him. I don't want to hear anyone say the N-name to me again tonight."

They all nod in agreement. We all sort of just stand around and stare at each other for awhile, until Brooke drags me over to a corner of the kitchen. "I'm going back to Markus's place tonight. You don't care, do you?" she slurs, her eyes looking glazed over. "And you're okay, right?"

"I'm fine, Brooke. And no, of course not, do your thing. Nathan has already been here and said his piece, so there won't be anymore trouble on that front," I tell her, "You're okay to go, right? You look dangerously close to passing out."

"Ha-ley," she sings out, patting me on top of my head before asking in her best 'duh' voice, "Have you seen Mark? He's like, only the hottest thing ever! Of course I'm okay to go! I need to practice my fleb – felx - ?"

God. "Flexibility?" I prompt, laughing when she beams at me.

"Yes, that!"

She takes off with Mark, leaving me here alone with Jake. Feeling desperate to prove – to whom, I don't know – that seeing Nathan doesn't affect me, I grab Jake and pull him to me for a kiss. I fist my hands in his hair as I step close to him, rubbing against him and trying to will my body to react in that breathless, tight way it does when Nathan is around.

His body stiffens against me at first, and I can feel him fighting with himself before he finally sets me away from him. "Haley," he groans, running a hand over his face, "Come on, don't do this to me."

"Do what, Jake?" I step close to him again, winding my arms around his neck. "Don't kiss you, like this?" I plant a small kiss on the corner of his mouth before tracing the edges of his lips with my tongue. "Don't touch you, like this?" I let my hand slide down his back, dragging my nails over him, landing on his butt, which I squeeze. He moans as I pull him closer to me. "Don't press against you, like this?" I move even closer to him, rubbing my breasts against his chest, not caring that my shirt is falling down.

"Those are all things you shouldn't do," he agrees, swallowing hard, and I can see that I'm affecting him. Just like I wanted. "We can't do this, Haley. You don't even really want this, we both know that. And I – I'm not willing to be a one night substitute for Nathan Scott, okay?"

I nod, tears forming in my eyes. "I'm so sorry," I whisper, ashamed at the game I was playing, knowing how foolish it was. "I didn't – I shouldn't have tried to use you like this, I'm so, so sorry, Jake."

"I know you are," he sighs, stepping away from. "Um, your shirts, uh, down," he blushes, averting his eyes. Sighing I pull it back up, covering myself. "Its okay, Haley," he says as I continue to cry, "We didn't do anything. No harm, no foul."

I nod, sniffling. "Look at me, trying to mess up another friendship with sex. Because I have such a good track record with this so far," I mutter sarcastically, "I don't know what I was thinking."

"You were thinking that this would be a really good way to piss Nathan off, get him back," he says gently, no anger evident in his voice. I start to protest, but he stops me. "It is okay that you'd want to do that, Haley. It's human nature, you know?"

"Doesn't make it okay. Oh, Jake, you have no idea how sorry I am," I sigh. "I mean it, I wasn't thinking beyond the fact that you're nice, and hot, and sexy. I'm sorry."

"Haley, its okay," he laughs, "Don't worry about it. I won't. Okay, I'm going to go grab you a sweatshirt, and then take you home."

He jogs off, probably thrilled to get away from me and stupid antics. I cannot believe I thought that trying to seduce was a good idea. Hell, I don't think I was even thinking, really. I just wanted to forget Nathan, and even though I tried to put all my thoughts and energies towards Jake, I was still thinking of Nathan in the back of mind. Is that ever going to go away?

Jake reappears at my side with a sweatshirt and another offer of a ride home. I turn him down, though, thinking that the walk will do me good.

"Come on, let me drive you. Who knows what kind of creeps are out at this time of the night?" he cajoles. "Actually, I think we know exactly what kind of creeps are out now," he reminds me pointedly.

I shake my head. "I'll be fine. There are only main roads to Brooke's, and you can't go out on them at this time of night without seeing a cop or two every single block. Don't worry, the fresh air sounds really nice right about now."

We argue for a few minutes before he capitulates. He does extract the promise that I'll call him immediately upon arrival at Brooke's place, and that if he doesn't hear from me in twenty minutes, he'll get in his truck and drive around looking for me. I laugh, agreeing, and leave, breathing deeply of the slightly chilly air. Despite his insistences it wouldn't be, it was still uncomfortable to stand there and banter with him after throwing myself at him.

It feels good to be out here, despite the goose bumps. And it is even nicer to have a few minutes on my own. Sure, everyone is great to me, especially Brooke, but she's been really hovering this last week, and I didn't realize how cloying that is until now. It isn't hard to remind myself that she really does have my interests at heart, though.

It's late enough that there really aren't a whole lot of people out, just a couple stragglers here and there, most of them in small groups or pairs. Like I reminded Jake, there are police officers driving by on a near constant patrol, so I feel safe despite the lack of people around.

"Haley?" a quiet voice to my right asks. I know that it is him immediately. I don't respond, just keep walking. "Hales, come on," he pleads, "One minute. Just give me one little minute to apologize."

"There is nothing that you can say to me that I want to hear, Nathan," I tell him stubbornly without turning to face him, "Let's just leave it at that, okay?"

The approaching footsteps let me know that he isn't listening, isn't giving in like I expected he would, despite the fact that I'm practically jogging I'm walking so fast.

"What part of 'I don't want to talk to you today, tomorrow, or ever again' don't you understand?" I bite out, fighting not to look at him. I'm not worried that I'll cave when I see him; I'm worried I'll attack him or something.

"Please," he says in a low, urgent voice that sounds almost broken.

"No!" I exclaim, "I don't want to see you! I don't want to talk to you! I don't want to listen. Don't you get it Nathan? I don't want anything to do with you! Nothing, not even the tiniest thing. I don't even care if I never get my stuff back from that damn apartment if it means a guarantee that I won't see you!"

"You don't know the whole story!" he pleads, "Please, Hales, just one minute, one minute for all the years of friendship we've had. Just one."

"I know enough of the story to know that there isn't anything you can say in one minute that will make me feel differently. Make me forget how you used me, and how you tossed me away when you didn't want me anymore. Nothing."

"Sixteen years," he reminds me, frantic sounding, "Almost seventeen. Come on, how can you just walk away now? How could just leave and not even put a note on the fridge?"

"You do not want to have this conversation with me tonight," I tell him, whirling around to finally face him, "Because I am pissed off, and I am tired, and right now, I don't give a shit what I say to you. And on top of it all, you have no right to bring our alleged friendship into this, and you have no right at all to try and make me feel guilty."

The bruises and cuts from his fight last week are still evident on his face, dark, angry marks that demand attention, but mostly what I see when I look at him now is anger. "Please," he whispers, "Please just listen to me." His voice is so quiet and so broken that I have to strain to hear what he's saying.

"I can't, Nathan. Look, if you ever cared about me, even a little, then just back off and leave me alone. I'm tired and I don't want to see you."

"Please, Hales, you're killing me here! I've been worried sick about you, about what I did, everything, and now you won't even listen to me for a minute? I just want to tell you how sorry I am, how much it hurts me to know what I did to you, to know how I hurt you. Won't you even let me make sure you're okay?"

"Okay? Okay after what you did to me? After how you treated me? What do you want me to say? That everything is fine, that I absolve you from whatever is you're feeling now? Because I won't – nothing is fine, and I can't give you that absolution."

"Can't or won't?"

"Nathan, I don't know what game you're playing, but I'm not playing with you. What happened between us just showed why things needed to change, and I made that change. Now you need to back off and let me live my life in peace, and get your own back together."

He doesn't say anything, just nods slowly, staring at me as I back away from him. He looks downtrodden and just devastated, and the part of me that has protected and loved him for seventeen years wants to run to him and make everything better.

"Haley," he calls out one more time, and as I pause, ready to give him another piece or two of my mind, he says words that nearly break me, "I'm so sorry. You're the last person I ever wanted to hurt. Especially not after what we – "

"I can't, Nathan," I choke out, "Not now, okay?"

He doesn't listen, though, and moves closer to me. I freeze, not knowing what to do. A part of me wants to run, to escape the sorrow and the guilt and the anxiety that being here with him are causing me, but another part wants to stay and see what he does. He reaches a hand out, brushing his fingers over my cheek.

"Nathan," I whisper, involuntarily leaning into his touch, "Don't do this. Please don't do this to me! I just can't deal with this right now."

He pulls his hand away like I burned him. "I just want you to know that I didn't want you to leave. God, I wish you were still there with me. You have no idea how awful it is for me there without you. You're all I've ever had, and now that you're gone, I have nothing. Don't you know that?"

I shake my head him, furious at myself for still being here, furious at him for making me feel things for him I don't want to. "I can't. I really can't. Just let me go to Brooke's place, okay?"

He nods, and I turn my back on him and jog off before he can see the tears that are falling. I run so fast that by the time I'm back to Brooke's house, I'm panting, hard. He finally got it that last time, and didn't try and follow me, so I'm alone when I arrive at the door, taking the key out of its hiding spot.

I call Jake and let him know I made it back here, and that I'm fine, not freaking out about seeing Nathan or what happened between me and him. He extracts a promise that I'll call him if I need anything, and I thank him for being a really good friend. We hang up, and I sit alone in the deafening quiet of the kitchen.

Out of all the looks he had on his face, the image of Nathan that stays with me tonight is his face when he told me he was sorry that last time. I don't think I'll ever forget that look. In all the years I've known him, and through all the bad times he's been through, I've never seen his emotions that raw on his face.

It pains me to see him like that, even if it shouldn't. If the only thing, as Brooke says, that I should feel for him is anger, then I'm failing miserably. Because in all honesty, a part of my heart does go out to him. I can see that he's in a bad place, probably the darkest he's ever been in, and I want to help him. I don't believe he deserves it, and I don't know if I could do it, but I look at him, and I want to make things better for him. To wipe that expression off his face.

It's not that simple, though. If it were, everyone would probably be a lot happier right now, most of all Nathan and me. In some ways, maybe this will be good for us. Maybe I'll learn that I can't fix everything for him, for anyone, and maybe he'll learn how to get his shit together and take care of himself.

I can't be responsible for him, though. There is nothing I can do to fix his actions, and wanting to fix him is probably completely unrealistic, considering I can't even fix myself. It is so quiet in here that I am completely lost in my thoughts when a knock on the door startles me.

I open it cautiously, afraid that Nathan decided to get pushy, and followed me here after all, but it is Luke instead. Someone I might actually care to see even less than Nathan at the moment. I cannot believe that he is here, in the middle of the night, showing up without calling.

"It's 3 in the morning, Luke," I point out by way of greeting.

"Yeah, I figured you'd be home for sure now, so I thought I'd drop by."

"How'd you get the address to this place? She just moved here, even Nathan doesn't know where it is," I mutter quietly, too tired to put up a huge fight and order him out.

"I cheated," he admits, "You left your address book behind. I just figured it out from there."

"So, you're a stalker," I accuse without heat, "Now, tell me what you're doing here so that I can tell you to go home and then I can go to bed. I'm really tired, considering how late it is."

"Aren't you going to ask why I'm in town?" he asks curiously, "Let's face it, I'm not showing up to see you or Nathan very often, and it isn't like I know anyone else here."

I shake my head. "If it has to do with Nathan, I don't want to hear about it Luke. Look, I'm really sorry you came over here and wasted your time, but you should go. I don't feel like very good company right now."

"Shouldn't that be up to me to decide?" he asks as he steps through the door, "I think you'll be just fine. Where can we sit?"

"You're an even bigger ass than your brother," I grumble, "And he's damn close to the top of my list right now."

"We come by it honestly," he points out, his tone bitter and hard as he references Dan, "I guess that's something, huh?"

"Why do I doubt that you're here to discuss your daddy issues with me?" I question, hoping to get him to the point and out of here.

"You used to be nicer," he complains, "Get bitter when you and I broke up?"

"No, got smarter then. Got bitter when you showed up at my door in the wee, small hours of the morning. Why is this such a hard concept for you to grasp?" I wonder.

"Oh, Haley, chill out. Look, I'm on your side. And your scary friend's side. She was really scary, you know," he grins, shaking his head.

"Lucas, get out," I growl.

"Sorry, got sidetracked. Anyway, I don't blame you for being pissed at Nathan. God knows he deserves to be on the world's shit list once in awhile."

"And what do you know, Lucas?" I drawl out, 'You're just a whiny little snot who never accepts responsibility for any of the shit you've done. And why do you care so much about what's happening with Nathan? No one needs your permission or approval on how we feel about him, and I for one don't need you showing up in the middle night to discuss him. This has nothing to do with you, so you need to let it go."

"Look, he and I are trying – "

"Trying to what?" I snap, unable to reconcile within myself this defense of Nathan, "You're trying to repay him for saving your life? You already showed how much regard you had for that by what you did to me afterwards. Come on, you think I'm buying your faux concern now? If Nathan wants to, that's his deal, but I'm not. I see through your lies and fake help and whatever it is else that you have to offer."

"You're still bitter about what happened back in high school, Haley?" He shakes his head. "Time to move on, don't you think?"

"I've moved on, but I haven't forgotten. And when you show up here, ostensibly to help Nathan, it tends to set those warning bells off in my head."

"You don't know everything," he counters, "I bailed his ass out of jail, and I'm trying to help him with his court stuff. And do you know why I'm doing it? So he doesn't have to call Dan. Still think I'm being selfish?"

"Honestly?" He nods. "Probably. I don't know for sure, and it seems like it might be legit, but I know you. And I know the things you've done to hurt Nathan in the past. So why should I think you're here for any reason other than to rub his troubles in his face?"

"I wouldn't wish Dan on anyone," he sighs, adding, "Even Nathan."

"You know, I actually believe that. But it doesn't matter. There's nothing for us to talk about, Lucas. I can't help you, and I certainly can't help Nathan, so why don't you just go? If you need to talk to me again, snoop through my things and get the phone number here instead."

"Don't make me go yet," he sighs, staying put in his chair to my dismay. "Look, I know I haven't given you many reasons to think I'm a great guy, but you know I'm not the scum of the earth."

"Maybe not," I concede, "But that's beside the point because I can't help you. I don't know any details about Nathan's current troubles, I don't know why he's acting the way he is, and I don't know how you're going to get him to stop. I can't help you."

"Look, I know you don't believe me, but I'm here to help him. Nathan, he has this gift, and he's throwing it away. I can't even figure out why, but I know it has something to do with you." I roll my eyes at him. "He hasn't spoken much," he continues, "But occasionally he'll answer when I ask a question. You're the only thing he can talk about. How guilty he feels, how much he wishes he hadn't pushed you. I know you're mad, and like I said before, I don't blame you. But don't shut him out."

"Why shouldn't I?" I ask, "Give me one good reason I shouldn't."

"He loves you, and he needs you. I think you're the only person he truly cares about, ever has, and I know you're the only one whose opinion matters to him," he says softly, even gently. "What he did was shitty, but I don't think he wanted to hurt you. I really don't."

"It doesn't matter, though, does it? The end result was the same either way," I point out, standing up, "Luke, I appreciate that you're trying, but I really need you not to. Please."

He stands up, nodding. He looks frustrated. "Yeah, I get it. You won't help him out, even though he needs you more now than ever. It's crystal clear."

I shake my head at him as we walk to the door. "If I wasn't so tired, I'd throw in your face that you told me you understood how I felt."

"I do," he corrects, "But I still kind of thought you'd come around and try and help him get back on track."

"It's not my place," I remind him as I open the door for him to step through, containing a sigh of relief as he does.

"I disagree, but you know that. So, if you change your mind, you know where we are," he offers, and I nod, waving goodbye to him. He nods, and walks off into the quiet night, leaving a mess of things for me to stew over.

Now I'll never get any sleep tonight.


	5. Gift of Screws

Thank you all for your replies!

**Chapter Four – _Gift of Screws_**

On the second day that Luke was here, when I woke up and had half-forgotten he was here only to find him in the kitchen cooking, he told me things would get easier. It seemed like a lunatic comment at the time, but over the past month, things have gotten easier.

He was right, though, not that I'm particularly inclined to tell him that. But things have gotten easier. It doesn't hurt to breathe as much or as often anymore, and now that I've got the ball rolling and have an agent, at least I know where I stand. That isn't the best part, since teams are even less likely to take a shot on a _violent_, shorter white guy. At least now I know where I stand, and I can consider other options. Jack Carson, the guy I assaulted, had agreed to drop the charges after some pressing by my lawyer, so my legal troubles were even over. In some ways, it almost seemed too easy.

Not everything has fallen into place. Haley still won't talk to me, and things with Lucas go from tolerable to awful. But at the end of the day, I can put Haley out of my head knowing I'm doing the right thing by giving her the space she wanted, and I'm grateful to Luke for being here. Even though it is tense and sometimes we can't talk without yelling, he's pushing me towards getting my act together, and I'm grateful. It is exactly what I need right now.

There are rumors of my fight circulating, and a few of the larger stations have ran with it, but even Mr. Carson decided it would be in his best interest to stay quiet about it, which is a relief. Johnny, the slick bastard that Luke talked me into retaining for my agent, has been getting a lot of calls about it, and he's doing his best to control the damage, but it doesn't look like it will do much good. I really shot myself in the foot on this one. Maybe it's a shame that I can't bring myself to care more, but it doesn't bother me much knowing I might not have a future in basketball.

Things are generally fine, though. Nothing is great, but aside from the situation with Haley, nothing is too awful either. I'm actually looking forward to the graduation ceremony today, despite the fact that Dan and Mom have shown up. I asked that they didn't, but they're both here citing "big news" to share with me. The way this family works, I've probably got another poor bastard of a sibling out there somewhere they want to tell me about. Or else Dan wants to kick my ass for kicking that dude's ass. Anything is possible

It doesn't matter, though, and not even their presence can ruin the opportunity I have with Haley today. Her parents and siblings are also here for graduation, and they invited me to go out to dinner with them. I should've known that Haley wouldn't want them to know that she and I are on the outs, and figuring I'd at least have a chance to see her this way, I quickly accepted.

After the confrontation the weekend after everything went down, I've spent most of my free time trying to figure how I can fix this mess that I've created. There doesn't seem to be any clear cut way of going about it, so I'm kind of pinning my hopes on proximity and the chance to remind her why she was friends – more than friends – with me.

Luke is still here, following me around like a pesky little bug, trying to get me to agree to go out partying tonight. He says it will do me good, but in some ways, that's what got me here, and I don't need to go through anything like that again. I might be playing it safe, but it's better than being sorry. There's no need to run the risk of making things worse.

"Hey, that last bruise is completely gone," Luke comments when I walk into the living room, referring the dark purple knot that I'd had on my forehead.

I gingerly press my fingers to where it was, wincing at the dull throbbing it induces. "Still tender, though," I shrug.

"Well, it looks better. You ready for today?" he grins, and I wonder what's got him in such a good mood. Especially since he knows Dan will be around, I'd have figured he wouldn't give a shit about today.

"Yeah, I guess. It'll be nice to have school be officially over, I think." I'm not really sure how I feel about the end of college, though. In some ways I know that it is best for me to have to move on, grow up, but at the same time, it has been such a mostly great experience here that I'm sad to leave. Plus, everything is so uncertain and unstable right now that I'm nervous.

"That's what I thought, too, last December. And then I woke up and realized I'd have to get a job, and suddenly college seemed a whole lot more appealing than the real world."

"And yet, here you are, again languishing in the life of a college student," I remark dryly, pulling down a box of cereal to munch out of.

He shrugs, grinning widely. "Well, they were my glory days, figured I'd give them another go-round, you know?"

"You're pathetic, man," I toss back, enjoying the banter that has begun to flow a little easier between us. I'm still not quite sure why he's still here, but after the first week, I stopped questioning it and he stopped looking quite as wary around me. I assume he'll tell me when he's ready, or when I can't take not knowing anymore.

"Yeah, well, someone has to whip your sorry ass into shape, right?" he banters back, chuckling when I toss a handful of cereal at him.

"Hah, I bet you're just here to piss Dan the Man off when he shows his sorry ass," I retort, immediately sorry I mentioned his name. A dark look passes over Luke's face before he attempts to paste a smile back on. "Man, I'm sorry, I should know that he – and his name – are a mood killer, by now."

"Don't worry about it," he says, shrugging it off. I can tell it bothers him that I mentioned his name, though. On the surface, you'd think it would be easier for Luke to hate Dan, since he was the neglected one, the discarded one, but I'm beginning to think that because I never have to wonder if things could've been different, it is easier for me. "Uh, I know I've asked this a thousand times, but they aren't staying here, right?"

"No, God, of course not. I don't even want to be around my mother for more than the time it takes for them to ridicule and annoy me, let alone Dan. And together? God, they're atrocious," I assure with a shudder.

He snorts back a laugh. "So what are the plans for today exactly?"

"Graduation this afternoon, obviously, and spending the rest of the evening avoiding Mom and Dan. Oh, and uh, Haley's parents invited me out to dinner with them, and I accepted," I expel this last part in a rush, hoping he's not going to quiz me on it.

"What?" he drawls out slowly. "I must be having trouble with my ears, because I thought you just said you were going out to dinner with Haley's family. But surely my ears were deceiving me, because I know you wouldn't do that."

"What's so bad about going out to dinner with them?" I ask, knowing exactly what he's going to say, "I've known her parents forever, and they love me. Hell, I like them more than I like my own parents, and her siblings are practically my siblings. One of her nephews calls me 'Uncle Nate'."

"Hey, that's nice and all," he sighs, "But she's not going to like it. You do realize that part of it, right?"

"Oh, yeah, I get it," I sigh, "But how am I supposed to apologize if I never get the chance to see her?"

"Let her come to you," he suggests, "Don't you think that she will, sooner or later?"

I roll my eyes. "Doubtful. Haley James is about as stubborn as they come, and if she thinks she's right about something – well, which she is in this case – then she'll hold onto that righteousness for as long as she can. I guarantee it."

"But pushing her is going to be a better option?" he questions, shrugging apologetically when I frown, "Sorry, but I'm just thinking that you're doing the right thing by giving her space. If you push too hard, you might make her run."

"Yeah, well, it wouldn't be any worse than things are now," I reply tersely, wishing he'd just leave this subject alone and not try and tell me what to do. "I've got to do this my way, and frankly, I think I know Haley better than you do. I know what will work for her and me."

"Fine, fine," he agrees, holding his hands up in surrender, "Nathan knows best, yeah, I got it. Can I just go on record and say that this is a typically selfish Nathan thing to do? Because it is."

"God, can you ever let anything go? And this really isn't any of your concern, you know," I grumble, getting irritated with him. "I just want to talk to her, and you can't even be supportive of that? What gives?"

"I saw her," he blurts out. I don't know what to say, so I just end up opening and closing my mouth a few times. "Three Saturdays ago. I went over to her friend's house. She doesn't want to see you or talk to you. You should respect that, Nathan."

I shake my head at him. "I can't fucking believe you, Luke! How dare you get into my business like this! It has absolutely nothing to do with you, but you're still sticking your big nose into every fucking aspect of my life! Where do you get off?"

"Where do I get off? Where the hell do you get off?" he retorts angrily, "I was just trying to help you out, and what do I get in return? Your dumb ass yelling at me over nothing! Absolutely nothing!"

I exhale, taking in his words. "I don't get it. Why would you go see her? You guys aren't friends, and she doesn't even like you very much."

"Well, she doesn't like you at all right now, so I guess it doesn't make much of a difference which one of us visits her, huh?"

I feel so defeated when we talk about Haley. It's like this hopeless situation that there is no resolution for. I've done everything wrong in regards to her for awhile now, and maybe this is just my price to pay. While a part of me agrees with Luke, that it would be smart to give Haley her space now, I can't. I know that the longer I let her push me away, angry, the less likely the chance that I'll be able to save our friendship. And that's all I really care about.

"I can't stay away from her, man," I tell him, my voice sounding pathetic and hollow, "The more space she has, the more time she has to get angry to the point where she'll never speak with me again."

He nods, glancing away. "I guess it isn't such a bad idea to at least try." I nod. "Yeah, you should do it then. Push her a little, see if she gives you anything."

I shake my head, sighing. "I wish I didn't have to push her. I wish things had never gotten to this point. They shouldn't have, you know."

"Yeah, but you can't go back, so you're just going to have to deal with what did happen." He shrugs, contemplating what to say. "Just tell her the truth, man."

"What truth?" I ask, unsure of what he's referring to. I definitely haven't told him anything about Haley that I'd necessarily need to tell her.

"That you love her," he says simply, laughing at the expression on my face. "What?" he smirks, "You do, even I can see that."

"She's my friend," I sputter, "My best friend, of course I love her." I glare at him, "Some days she's the only family I'm willing to acknowledge."

He snorts. "Please, like friendship is all you feel for her? Get over yourself and be honest with someone about something for a change. I know that's a novel concept for a lying martyr like yourself, but it isn't that hard."

"Lying martyr?" I echo, ignoring his more than friendship jibe, "What are you talking about? How the hell do you get that I'm like that?"

"Because you are. Because you act like it. Because you fuck up, and then when someone tries to fix things for you, or help you, you refuse and load it all on yourself. And then you inevitably play it like you had such a burden."

"Is that really the definition of martyrdom?" I question, evading this subject altogether, if possible.

"You know what I mean," he reasons, staring at me unflinchingly as I glare at him, "And you know I'm right. You cause problems, let people step into fix it, and then you twist it around so that you somehow look like the good guy, the hero. Pretty funny how that works, huh?"

"Luke, I don't even know what you're talking about," I sigh, rubbing a hand wearily over my eyes, wincing when I hit a still-tender spot on my face. "I've never wanted to be or considered myself a hero. You know that."

He rolls his eyes at me, not buying my words. "Even now, you're going to sit there and lie," he sighs, "Pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about when we both know you do. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

I shake my head, adopting a cocky smirk on my face. "Nope, you're going to have to spell it out for me, I guess. I'm the dumb one, remember?"

"Knock it off. That's exactly what I'm talking about, anyway. Jesus," he mutters, "You want an example?" I nod. "Okay, how about all this basketball shit?"

"What?" I ask sharply, a little surprised he'd go here, especially on a day when we might need to present something of a unified front against Dan.

"You heard me," he growls out irritably, squinting – as he frequently does – at me, "Basketball. You might've blown your chances, and what do you do? Act like you never really wanted it anyway. Act like it hasn't been the main focus of your life for almost eighteen years. Acting like you're better for not going further with it, like it makes you better that you'll have to fall back on your education."

"Why does it always come back to basketball with us?" I ask, sincerely curious about this, "How, at the end of the day, is that the biggest thing between us?"

"It isn't," he sighs, "What's between us is everything, and basketball is just like a microcosm of that. It's easy to see, it's easy to point out, and it doesn't hurt as bad as some of the other stuff."

He's right, I know he is. I understand what he means. A part of me doesn't understand why basketball is the one thing we can always have a knock down drag out over, though. "It's just what we hide behind," I say as comprehension dawns, "I never thought about it until now."

He nods. "It's easier to say aloud that we hated each other because of basketball," he agrees, and I take note of his use of past tense, "Than it ever would've been to say we hated each other because of resentments over Dan."

"Well, now we can argue over which one of us hates him more," I chuckle, only half-joking. "Which one of us he's done worse by."

"Clearly me," he challenges, "I mean, he abandoned me, and wouldn't have cared less if I'd died in a freak stroller accident or on the playground or electrocuted during and lightning storm."

"You never had to live with the ass, and he only cared about me in terms of the status I brought to him," I argue, fervent in my belief that is worse than being ignored, "I was there with him for sixteen years while he sucked the life out of me. Plus I had the added bonus of my mom either being gone most of the time – to avoid him, no doubt – or when she was actually there, they fought over her affairs and his eternal love for your mother. She gave almost as small a shit for me as he did. Life was great, really great."

"He said that he loved my mom?" he asks, his tone quiet and deadly, which confuses me, considering what's gone on between Dan and Karen in recent years.

I shrug. "He never said it, but my mom did. That was one of her weapons, to call my dad out for being "stuck" with her when he really wanted Karen all along." I shrug again, seeing no reason to hide anything from him. "He never denied it, though, not once. But that could've been something he did to piss Mom off."

"I don't get these people," he sighs, shaking his head, "Do you think we were ever anything more than pawns to them?"

"You were," I remind him, "You were a lot more to your mom and Keith."

"Well, Keith is gone," he points out tersely, "And my mom, she's pushing me to not hate Dan, and then they – well, you know, and it just isn't the same anymore."

"I used to hate my mom for leaving because I didn't understand. And then after the steroids incident, Haley helped me get emancipated. Your mom just doesn't know what hell her - and your – life would've been if Dan had chosen her," I shrug, "And maybe there's a part of her that still thinks Dan's not Beelzebub himself, and wants that shot with him. Crazy, but kind of understandable."

"No way," he denies hotly, "Her turning around and fucking Dan after Keith dies isn't understandable! It's stupid, and dangerous, but never understandable!"

"I'm not disagreeing with you, man, I'm just saying that I kind of see where she's coming from. She thought she was missing out on something all this time, but she didn't know she got off easy."

"She's so stupid. Hell, I'm so stupid. All those years when she and Keith told me that I was lucky, better off without him, and then Keith is gone, Dan sniffs around, and she jumps right into bed with him? How could I have thought she was better than that? How couldn't I have known?"

"How does anyone know anything? Hell, I couldn't even put two and two together that sleeping with Haley was a bad idea, so don't be so hard on yourself. What happened with your mom and Dan wasn't your decision to make, anyway."

He nods, and I can see from his stance that this discussion is basically over. "Well, you better go, doesn't graduation start soon?" I glance at the clock, groaning in acknowledgement when I see the time. "Break a leg up there. Be sure to give Danny boy a big hug and kiss for me," he snickers.

I flip him off as I head for the door, grabbing the cap and gown I'm refusing to put on until the last minute. He laughs as he follows me into the living, plopping down on my couch. "I might bring Mommy Dearest and Daddy home after the ceremony," I taunt him, laughing when he blanches. "Okay, fine, I wouldn't do that to anyone, but it was worth saying I would to see your face."

This time he's the one to flip me off, and I laugh, walking out the door. "Some jokes aren't funny, you asshole!" he calls to me as I leave.

It's just a ten minute walk to campus, but I still consider taking my car, deciding against it when I realize that would just make it easier for my parents to try and finagle their way back here.

I see Haley later that afternoon. She's in a large group with her family, Brooke, and Jake. None of them see me, which is probably a good thing, and I just walk on by to find my parents and get this part of the day over as painlessly as possible. It hurts, though, to see her laughing, and knowing that Brooke and Jake get to fill my former role in her life. I miss being her best friend, and I miss having her as mine. It is really hard not to run over there and pull her in my arms and do whatever it takes, whatever she needs to forgive me.

And Jake. I just can't get past the image of her sitting on his lap, laughing at something he said. That was – I don't know why, but that bothered me. It bothered me to the point that I'm still bothered by it, and that doesn't really seem fair, not to him and not to Haley. It just hurt that when he whispered in her ear, she nodded and did what he told her. She trusts him, something I know she doesn't have for me anymore.

Seeing my parents, my thoughts are dragged away from Haley and the messy situation that I've created. I almost groan aloud at the rigid posture in my dad's body, knowing that whatever is bothering him is more than likely aimed at me, and I will hear about it. Mom looks equally uncomfortable being here, and it kind of reinforces what I told Luke earlier about neither of them really caring about me. They're just too focused on themselves and their own lives for trivial things like their children. Some things never change.

"Nathan," my mom says when they finally notice me. She tries to force a smile on her face, but she can't even muster that much.

"Hi Mom," I sigh, weary already of being around them. "How was the trip here?"

"It was fine," she answers, glancing at Dan warningly, so I know something is up with them. I just don't have the energy to figure out what it is.

"Fine?" he echoes, grinning. A grin from Dan is rarely a sincere gesture of happiness. It's usually a gesture of "I'm going to blow you and your lies out of the water now'. Everything about this man is malicious and uncaring, but I've gotten used to him the pathetic way he is over the years. "By fine, Nathaniel, your mother means short. She was already a few towns over anyway, staying with yet another in the countless line of her lovers."

I stare at him, unable to respond to this bit of information. Mom nervously flutters beside him, glaring at him before turning pleading eyes on me. "Nathan, it isn't what you think."

"Since when do you care what I think?" I ask honestly, cringing when Dan laughs. "Oh, like you care. Both of you are selfish, self-centered assholes who only care about me and what I think when it serves one of your pathetic purposes. And frankly, I'm too excited about graduating to want to spend any time around either of you."

Dan snorts back a laugh. "Are you trying to say you have something better to do?" He smirks at me, shaking his head. "I've heard the stories, I know how your stock is plummeting," he taunts, callously disregarding whatever feelings I have towards any of this mess that is my life, "I know that the scouts have virtually stopped looking at you. I know your little slam-piece girlfriend broke up with you. What better things could you possibly have to do then stay here with your mother and me?"

A heavy silence hangs over as Mom looks between Dan and I trying to gauge if there will be physical blows this time, or if we'll continue to stick to letting words do the damage that we all know can bruise deeper than a fist. I stare at Dan, not willing to budge, not willing to let him make me feel worthless, and not willing to let him ruin the fact that I graduated today. Because that's something, and he can't take it away.

For a minute – just a minute – I let myself focus on the commotion around us. The students in their caps and gowns who are having happy moments with their families. The students that are smiling and laughing and hugging each other. A lot of them probably have their dysfunctional moments, but they didn't bring them here.

"You know, when I was sixteen, I probably would've been horrified if you'd said that to me," I address Dan, but don't spare Mom a hard glance or two, "But now? I don't care. It doesn't matter. There are so many more important things out there than your opinion of me."

He doesn't contain himself this time, just laughs right in my face. "And you think you're going to be privy to any of these important things? You're not. You've blown your future, Nathan. You're a has-been with nothing. No, you're not even a has-been, you're a never were. And isn't that so much worse?" His laugh grows a little snider. "All this time, you've acted like you were so much better than me, such a great person. How does it feel to know that in the end, you turned out just like me?"

"Jesus, Dan," Mom groans, glaring at him, "What a thing to say to your son. You could at least show the tiniest bit of compassion for the boy, he's obviously made a mess of a lot of things."

I turn to her, letting my anger at him seep over towards her. "Since when do you care?" I rail quietly, ignoring Dan as he smirks at the turning of the tables, "Since when have you ever cared what Dan says to me, does to me?"

"I care, Nathan, you know I do!" she exclaims, her tone pleading and raw, "I know I haven't been the perfect mother, but I love you!"

"Yeah, well, I believe you do. Hell, I think that even in his own twisted, sick way, Dan loves me, too. But do you think that matters? Do you think that makes anything okay? You should know better than that."

Dan just sits there smirking at her, a malicious twinkle in his eye. "Oh, I'm so proud of you, son," he crows, nauseating me immensely with his praise, "You might be a wash-out at basketball, but with speeches like that, there might be some hope for you yet."

I quietly turn back to him, his statements not forgotten, still hanging in the air between us. "You're right, I've blown a lot of things. More than you even know," I admit, "But I haven't lost everything. In fact, maybe I've gained a few things along the way. One thing is for sure, I have more than you'll ever have, you bitter old man."

He takes a menacing step towards me. "Don't you dare speak to me that way, _son_," he threatens. I just shake my head and laugh at him.

"Or what, _Dad_?" I chuckle, mimicking his tone, "You'll disown me? Oh, the heartbreak that would be. Jesus, you really don't get anything, do you? Did you know that I've always been jealous of Lucas? Your bastard son that you've tortured and tormented and taught me to do the same to? Because he didn't have to live with you, deal with you."

"Nathan," Mom begins, backing down when Dan glares at her. "Fine," she snaps at him, "You do it your way. Why don't you just tell him the happy news, it isn't like he'll care anyway."

"Yeah, just tell me," I echo, beyond caring about anything either of the two have to say at this point.

"We're getting a divorce," Dan says, grinning widely. Only he would be so freaking happy to be telling his kid he's divorcing his mother. "Your slut of a mother has screwed me over one too many times."

"Like you are the epitome of fidelity and being a good spouse, Dan! You've been screwing Karen practically since the day you danced on your own brother's grave!" she yells, and they turn on each other. They become so involved in their fight that they don't even notice as I back away, ignoring the stares that their commotion is drawing, and leave.

I think about what he said to me about screwing up my life, throwing things away. There was so much I could've said in response to him, but all I could manage was to say that I hadn't lost everything. And maybe I haven't. Maybe Luke and I can be…something. Friends, maybe. I guess there is way too much water under the bridge for us to be brothers, but a relationship between us doesn't have to be bad.

I'm not exactly sure what to do now. I could go back to the apartment and hang out with Luke, but I don't really want to do that. Instead, I go to the gym and wander around the basketball court, thinking of all the baskets I made here, all the cheers and adulations I received. At the times they happened, they seemed so important, they seemed to make me whole.

But they weren't, and in the end, they didn't. They don't even matter anymore, and when I think of them, I feel hollow. The place in me that they filled, maybe that place is supposed to be empty. It was just a temporary gift, those things, and I think they've left the empty place in me bigger than before. Maybe it is destined to be empty. Chuckling aloud, I realize I'm making myself sound like the Tin Man. He found his heart, why shouldn't I find mine? If Haley were speaking to me, she'd assure me that I would find it, and that it'd be better than I ever imagined. Or, she'd probably tell me I already have one, and if I didn't, that's when I wouldn't feel the hole.

But even as I think that, my mind cruelly wanders back to the things I've done over the years: the time I 'accidentally' let myself slam knee-first onto the ankle of a guy I knew was just returning from surgery on said ankle. Then there was the time I screwed one of the cheerleaders from an opposing team here in this very gym, knowing that we'd be seen and knowing she didn't know that.

There were other things, awful things. And maybe Dan was right. Maybe I've turned out just like him. Some of the things I've done support his claim, and he doesn't even know about those things. If he did, oh, the field day he could have with me. Maybe I'm no better than him, no matter how desperately I'd like to believe otherwise.

There's a rack of basketballs sitting under one of the baskets, and I choose one and pick it up. I haven't held a basketball in over a month now, and the weight of it feels foreign in my hands. I fling it at the basket, not even bothering to shoot in the proper way. Naturally, it bounces off the rim, slamming against floor until momentum slows its progress.

"Nice shot," a voice tells me from the far entrance to the gym. I turn, not sure if I'm surprised to see him or not.

"Jake," I acknowledge civilly, "Don't you have some celebrating to do?"

He nods. "But I could ask the same of you. It was graduation day for you, too."

"Yeah, well, I've already seen my parents, and the only celebrating to do with them is in private after they leave, and I guess that is what I'm doing here."

He stares at me as I pick up the ball, dribbling it a few times before passing it to him. Even though I have this confounding new jealousy for Jake, he's still one of the greatest guys I've met since I started here. And he's been a good friend to me, even though I never really deserved it. For that, I can't be an ass to him now.

"Uh, how've things been?" he asks cautiously.

I shrug, taking another shot when he passes the ball back to me. This time the ball swishes through the new. "I graduated. That's pretty much a month high for me."

I want to ask him, I do, but I can't. I don't want to hear him say anything about Haley, and so I won't ask, even though I'm dying to know she's okay. And a part of me would be wanting to hear that her anger had lessened before seeing – surprising – her tonight.

"It's exciting, isn't it?" he wonders aloud, retrieving the ball and sinking his own shot. "Graduation, I mean."

"I guess," I nod as he passes the ball to me, "Haven't thought of it too much." I take another shot. "What are you going to do?"

"Now that school is over?" I nod. "I don't know," he admits, "Med school in the fall, but it seems far and distant. It's weird."

"Yeah, well, at least you know what you'll be doing," I reason, spinning the ball on my finger. "That's something, right?"

He nods. "Yeah, it is." He looks around, obviously feeling as weird around me as I do around him. "Look, we're beating around the bush, and it's stupid. I'm sorry I got in the middle of your shit, but I'm not sorry I'm Haley's friend, too."

There it was, he said her name. "I never asked you to be sorry." I shake my head, turning away. "Do you really think I'm a big enough jerk to wish that she didn't have other friends?"

"No, of course not," he says quickly, walking after me. "But it makes things awkward now after what happened with you two."

"You know?" I ask sharply as I turn back to face him, surprised she'd tell him. Of course, upon further reflection, it makes some sense. Jake is easy to talk to. He's one of the few people who know the story of my parents, Luke, and Keith.

He slows a little, but still walks up to me, and looks me in the eye. "I made her tell me. It was after your arrest, and I was trying to figure out what was going on with you. You wouldn't return my calls. I kept pushing her to tell me, and she told me there was no way she'd know because she moved out. After she said that, there was no point in not telling me the rest of the story."

I nod, not knowing what else to do. And what do I say, really? Do I tell him I'm glad that my best friend told him about the night we had sex? Yeah, that always goes over well in polite conversation. Instead, I'll avoid.

"Well, I, uh, have to go. My, well, he's my brother, I guess, and anyway, he's in town. I should probably go make sure he isn't tearing apart my apartment."

He nods, not saying anything else. I guess there's nothing to say right now, is there? Instead of leaving the gym, I head through the tunnel into the locker room where I left my cap and gown. I think about taking them with me, but what's the point? They'd just be dust collectors in the back of my closet if I keep them. If I leave them here, it means that I don't have to go back and see Lucas and explain what happened with Mom and Dan yet.

Anyway, the James', even though they don't all know it yet, are waiting for me.

The greeting I get from her siblings and nieces and nephews is raucous and loud, and it becomes clear that there is a reason we're going out for pizza to celebrate her success, not steak and lobster. A clan like this probably wouldn't fit in too well at a place like this, and I can't say that I'm upset by that.

Haley is visibly surprised to see me, and I feel bad about that for about two seconds before I decide that she doesn't have the right to not want me here. Her family has been my second family – first in many ways – since I met her, and they're important to me, too. And if they invite me out to dinner with them, I'm going to accept and she can just deal with that.

She sits as far away from me as possible at the crowded table, and I see her older sister Deanna give her an inquiring look. Haley just shrugs it off, though, and continues to ignore me. I don't mind so much, though, because her nieces and nephews are hanging off me, and her brothers are joking with me.

Her mom sits down beside me, shooing her grandchildren away to their seats when the pizza comes. She asks me a thousand and one questions, no topic being sacred or off-limits to her.

"Now, Nathan, what happened with basketball? I cannot believe you'd get in a fight with some jerk and jeopardize your career! You are better than that, young man. I'm a little disappointed in you, Nathan."

It's funny that Haley's mother cares more about my future and scolding me over mistakes made than my own does, but that's pretty much how it's always been. "I know, Lydia, I made a mistake. A stupid mistake." I look down the table at Haley when I say that, willing her to know that I mean doing what I did to her, to us, was the real mistake. "God, I'd take it back in a second if I could, you know?"

Lydia follows my glance. "Oh, Nathan, did she get all uptight about the fight?" she asks, her voice dropped to a near-whisper, "Now, you know I love her as much as the next child of mine, but she's always been a bit of a black and white kind of girl. Doesn't see the shades of grey. So, sometimes she doesn't get that things don't have to be bad, even if they seem that way on the surface." She smiles widely. "But she's got so much love in her, and even if she doesn't like your actions, I know that she'll forgive you anything."

I watch Haley as she says this to me, and she makes of point of ignoring me. Lydia's words give me hope, though. Hope that maybe one day she will forgive me, like Lydia thinks she will. Then again, Lydia obviously has no idea what happened between us, and if she did, she might think differently.

Once dinner ends and the kids get enough of the arcade games, the James' family packs up to head back to the various hotels that they're staying at. I hang around, receiving hugs from every single one of them, including the in-laws. The goodbye is just as raucous and loud as the arrival was, but it is all part of the James' family charm.

I purposely wait until they are all gone, going along with it when Haley let's her parents assume that she and I will be going back to our apartment together. Finally, it is just me and her standing together on the sidewalk, and I take the moment before she tells me to get lost to study her, really study her.

She's wearing a denim jacket over a strapless pink sundress. Her hair is twisted up into some girly 'do that it is safe to assume Brooke did for her. She looks beautiful, I can see that, but most of all she looks relaxed and even happy. At least, if you look beyond the obvious anger she has towards me, it's clear that beneath the surface she has a glow.

"Why'd you come here tonight?" she finally asks quietly after several minutes of us just standing here, not speaking.

"Your mom called my cell phone and told me I had to and she wouldn't take no for an answer." She doesn't say anything in response, probably knowing that is exactly how it went down. "And I love them. God, I love you, and this is a big day for both of us," I say honestly, finishing lamely, "I just – wanted to spend the day with some people who care about me."

"I wish you hadn't," she sighs, brushing a strand of hair that fell out of Brooke's twisty thing off her face. "This isn't your place anymore. It's just mine now."

"Haley, come on, I've known them since I was little!" I exclaim, feeling trapped and desperate, "You – you can't. Your – they – look, your parents, your siblings, their kids, are like family to me. And – and I know I hurt you, but I don't think you should expect me to stop caring about them."

I can see them, the tears in her eyes, but I can't figure out where they're coming from. "Look, I don't want you to not see them, I know they love you. But do you have to do it when I'm around?" she asks, "Because that's not fair."

"To who?" I ask, "To you? Come on, you've dictated every single rule of our relationship for the last four years! You've told me that when I was allowed to hang out with you, when it was okay to tease you, when it was okay to touch you, when it was okay to do anything! And now you decide that we can't be friends anymore, without even talking to me!"

"Why shouldn't I?" she responds bitterly, "You've treated me like I'm beneath you for years, Nathan! Like I'm some tagalong that you've brought with you out of obligation. Well, guess what? I've released you from your obligation."

I laugh in bitterness, not humor. "You have a very different version of how things happened than I do." I shake my head at her, trying not to cringe when she looks away. "No, really, Haley. Tell me some more about how I treated you like an obligation, because I don't really remember that part. I just remember trying to include you in things that I was doing because I thought it was fun to spend time together."

"Oh, you call me following you to some where you rub up on forty hoes a fun time to spend together?" she explodes, whirling around to glare at me, "Because that's all it ever was! I never even knew why you invited me to those parties, because you should've known I wasn't one of the moron guy hanger-ons that would be impressed by how many drinks you could down or how many 'bitches' you could bag."

I take a step back, surprised, but at the same time not, that this is how she viewed me, viewed what I've become. "Is that all you thought of me? That that was all you thought there was to me? Booze and girls?"

"God, Nathan, I don't want to do this here."

"Fine, then let's go somewhere else, but Haley, we need to have a conversation. We have to have a conversation!"

"Nathan, stop it! God!" She throws her hands in the air. "Can't you see? I don't want to talk to you! Period! Not today, not tomorrow, and I'm sorry, but I don't know if I'll ever want to talk to you."

"And I'm supposed to be okay with that?" I respond, not willing to give up or back down from this. No way, no how.

"Maybe it doesn't matter, Nathan," she says after a lengthy pause, "Maybe our friendship has run its course, and maybe this is where we part ways. I don't know."

"You don't really believe that, do you?" I ask, aghast that she'd think that, more aghast that she's saying it out loud.

She looks stricken and a little green, and I can only imagine that I look somewhat similar. "Nathan, come on, what's the point anymore? What's the point in you and I pretending like things are fine when they obviously aren't? What's the point in having this fight – this very over and over again, because the writing is on the wall, we would."

"Oh, Haley," I sigh, stepping towards her and putting my hands on her shoulder, "I'm not asking you to pretend anything. I just want us to have a chance. How could we just let go of sixteen years of friendship? I don't know about you, but I can't."

"And I can't take this inferiority complex you're giving me, Nathan." I open my mouth to protest, but she shakes her head firmly at me. "No, don't interrupt me." I clamp my mouth shut, nodding. "I just – you make me feel like I'm the least important thing in your world, and that hurt me. That hurt me so bad. And I'm sorry, but I refuse to put myself in that position again."

"And that's it?" I question incredulously, "You really would just throw away all these years of friendship, wouldn't you? You'd throw away all the times we helped each other, all the times we dried each other's tears? I – I honestly cannot believe this."

"Why not?" she spits, "You – you – Jesus, I can't even begin to tell you all the ways you've made me feel like I don't matter to you. Well, guess what! I'm tired of not mattering, and I know this is a wild and crazy idea, but I'm not going to hang around people who make me feel like I don't. So, sorry, you're out."

I just gape at her like a fool. "Haley," my voice cracks out, "Come on. I'm sorry. I – you have to know that I'm sorry."

"Okay," she agrees, "You're sorry. Well, I'm sorry, too. But….that doesn't make me feel better, you know? And it doesn't make any of the things that happened go away. And I'm just afraid that they'll always be there, always be in my head. Because they are now, and when I see you? Those are the things I see."

My hands are still on her shoulders until she says that, and then I yank them away like they've been burned.

"That's all you see?" I choke out, desperately needing the validation from her that there's more to me, that I'm not just an obnoxiously evil jerk like Dan. "And that's how you've seen me for awhile now? My God!"

"I don't know, Nathan. Even if I saw more, I'm not sure it would matter, okay?"

"No, it's not okay!" I yell, glad that the street is mostly deserted, "It's not okay that I'm so – so expendable to you! Tell me, did I ever even matter? Could you have dumped our friendship at any point, this was just the most convenient?"

"Don't you turn this around on me," she yells back, "I never set out to hurt you!"

"Yeah, well, guess what? You did. Don't you get it? I didn't want to hurt you. I never intended to hurt you, and I hate that fact that I did! You're my family, Hales," I finish quietly, "And I need you. I need you in my life."

She looks away, brushing a tear away. It's cold, but that tear gives me hope. Hope that perhaps she isn't as immune to this as she wants to project, hope that she doesn't hate me as much as I feel like she does right now.

"You just think you do, Nathan." She shrugs away from me. "Think about it, we haven't been a part of each other's lives for a couple of years now. Not really, not the way we used to. You didn't even notice. I was just a crutch for you to fall back on."

"That is not true," I deny hotly, "I knew all along you were pulling away from me, but I never understood. And I didn't know how to pull you back."

"I know that. And maybe that's my fault, I'm not saying it isn't. But everything is different now, and we can't go back."

"So, let's go forward, together as friends, Hales," I plead, dangerously close to the territory of begging.

"Nathan," she sighs, looking away, trying to surreptitiously wipe her tears away, "Please, I'm just – this is really hard."

"Yeah, I know that, I'm here, too, feeling everything your feeling," I promise her, surprised when she blanches at that.

"You don't know what I'm feeling. And even if you did, it wouldn't make a difference." She seems so resigned to whatever it is that she's feeling, and that scares me. It's like she has no hope that I can ever be for her what she needs me to be, but that's all that I want to be.

"Haley, come on, I know I've hurt you, and I get that I was hurting you even before that night, but I want to make up for it. I'll do whatever it is I have to if you'll just let me be your friend again," I plead.

She lets the tears fall freely down her face now, not bothering to check them. "I wish it were that simple, but it isn't. Come on, we just graduated. I'm going to med school in the fall, and you're going to get drafted soon," she tells me, not noticing when I shake my head in denial, "It isn't like when were little and had a fight, proximity won't be able to fix this."

"I don't want anything but me to fix," I promise her, "Just me. Just me proving to you that I can be that friend that you relied on in junior high and high school. I know I can be that guy for you again, and I just have to prove it now!"

"I – I appreciate that, but it's not going to work," she says with a stark finality that makes my heart feel like its caught in a vice, "I think it's best if we go our separate ways and just let things be."

I remain quiet at this, soaking in her rigid posture and the defiant look on her face. She's very serious about this, I can tell. And it hurts, it feels like she's hit me with her car; every little bit of me aches right now.

"So this is it?" I ask, my voice sounding as defeated as I'm feeling, "Just like this, you're telling me there's no hope we can be friends again?"

She looks stricken, and I guess it gives me a little comfort that this is as hard for her as it is for me, but it still sucks that she gets to make these decisions for me. "I – I don't know, but we can't be friends right now. There's just too much to deal with."

"And you don't want to try," I assess, sighing, "Not even a little?"

"Maybe it isn't about wants anymore, maybe it's about needs. Because right now, I need distance from you, Nathan. I'm sorry if that hurts, but it is just the truth."

I nod again, backing away from her. Emotions are threatening to overwhelm me, and I don't want her to see me when they do. "O-okay, if that's what you want. You know how to find me," I tell her, and with one last look, I leave.

I can hear her soft gasp hanging in the air between us, getting farther and farther away with every step I take. The need to turn around and beg her to let me be her friend again is there, weighing on me heavily, but Haley's nothing if not stubborn, and I doubt it would make a difference.

So, I leave. I don't want to, and I don't even believe she really wants me to, but it is the only thing to do right now. Standing there on the street arguing with her, pleading with her, that wasn't going to get either of us anywhere. It was time for us to cut our losses, at least temporarily, and focus on the futures that we stepped into today as we graduated. Maybe she's right, and it is best if we let each other go for awhile.

It won't be forever – I won't let it be that way. At some point, she's going to have to let me back in, because I'm not going away. And I don't think she wants me to, either. Right now, yeah, she might not think she'd care if I dropped off the face of the earth, but this is Haley, and I know better than that.

When I get back to the apartment complex, it only takes two minutes of deliberation for me to decide that this is the last place in the world I need to be right now. I can't complain too much about Luke, but I don't need to see him right now, I don't need him asking questions and offering his opinions.

It's the last weekend before campus becomes fairly dead for the summer, and the bars are packed with graduates and their parents and friends. I could probably go to one, and hole up, but I want quiet. There's a dive bar about a mile from my apartment, so I walk there.

It's quiet. One of the few bars on campus that isn't always crowded to point of overkill. Usually, the only people here are professors and some of the other non-students who live in town, which isn't all that many. Most of them are smart enough to live in one of the other small towns in the area and away from the craziness of campus.

I drown my sorrows. Stupid, but it works. I order shot after shot of whiskey until the bartender finally just leaves me a shot glass and the fifth so that he can sit at the other end of the bar and read his book. Which is fine with me, since the one person that I wanted human contact from was completely disinterested in giving it to me, I don't need it from anyone here.

By the time last call comes around, I'm partway through my second bottle, and my vision is blurry. I stumble frequently on the long walk back to the apartment, stopping twice to puke up the alcohol I'd consumed.

I must look like hell; I certainly feel it. But that doesn't stop a girl from approaching me. "Nathan? Nathan Scott, right?" she asks.

I nod, or at least I think I do. "That's me," I tell her, trying to focus on her to see what she looks like. Maybe she'll be just as good for drowning my sorrows in as the alcohol was.

"Wow, you're a living legend around here," she murmurs, stepping close enough to me that the scent of her perfume has waves of nausea rolling over me. I think briefly of turning her away, but she's here, and she seems interested in giving me what I want. Instead, I smile at her as brightly as I can, and lay my hand on her waist.

"You want to test out that legend status? See if it holds up?" I ask her, sounding smarmy to my own ears. But I don't give a shit, and apparently neither does she.

"I'd like that," she purrs, rubbing against me in a way that I'm not going to complain about right now. "Hmm, we're off to a good start," she comments as she slips her hand inside my pants to feel my erection.

"Where's your place?" I question, groaning as she attaches her lips to my neck, nipping and sucking the skin there.

"What's wrong with your place?" she questions.

"Nothing, just off-limits," I grunt, sliding my hand up the inside of her legs, letting my fingers explore her.

"So, the rumors are true, then," she moans, thrusting herself into my hand, wrapping her arms tighter around my neck.

"What rumors?" I gasp out.

"That you never take girls back to your place," she pants, "That you take them to their place, and that you're the consummate fuck and run guy."

"Is that a problem for you?" I bite out, my breath releasing in a hiss as her fingers graze over my nipple ring.

"Not at all," she grins.

When we get back to her place, it's rough and out of control, and I know that both of us will be branded with bruises and teeth marks and whatever else. But the loss of control feels good, it feels reckless, and that makes me feel powerful.

The way she screams my name appeals not only to my ego, but just to that part of me that wants someone to need to me. I'm not really attracted to this girl, and I realize that is even more true when I wake up and my vision is less cloudy. I do exactly what I told her I would last night, fuck and run.

I don't feel bad about it either. My memory of the prior night's events are perfect after I stumbled out of the bar, but I remember her asking me about that, and I remember saying that was who I was and what I did. If she wanted it, and I wanted it, there's no problem, and how I leave doesn't really matter.

There wasn't much pleasure in screwing this girl, but I got off, and in the grand scheme of things, that's all I wanted. Just a release. I have to walk home, and for the first time ever, it really does feel like a walk of shame. I keep doing stupid things that I know don't make sense and contradict what I say I want, but I keep doing them anyways.

It is almost like I'm on this orbit that is every day pulling me closer and closer towards becoming my father, and that scares me more than anything.

But I can't stop myself, either, and no one else cares enough to help me.


	6. Emptiness in Harmony

**Chapter Five – _Emptiness in Harmony_**

There's a void in my life. Brooke works overtime to fill it, and I know it drives her insanely jealous knowing that there's a part of me that only Nathan can touch. It hurts her, and we both try to pretend like it doesn't, but just the same, we both it does.

It hasn't been an easy couple of months, and I feel like I'm in the midst of a rather precarious balancing act with Brooke and my feelings for Nathan. She loathes him so thoroughly and completely that it traps me sometimes. I know that if I ever pursue friendship with Nathan again, she will probably cut off all ties to me.

I don't think that's particularly fair, which I have told her, but she's adamant that I have no further communication with him. She's not willing to entertain the notion that maybe he is willing to try to get our friendship back, and she insists that even if he does, it still isn't good for because I feel more than friendship towards him.

She might be right, but it doesn't mean that she has to be so confrontational about things. I just feel like I've gotten to a point where I'm completely free in life, but I have her behind the scenes trying to run things for me. She just pushes a lot, and then I get tired of being pushed and let her have her way. It's stupid, but it's what happens, time and time again.

That's not to say that I'm not grateful, though. I love her dearly, and she's like a fourth sister to me. We've been through a lot together, and I'd hate to do something to jeopardize our friendship. It just feels like she's putting these parameters on what is okay for me to do, and if I don't stay within them, then I'm out.

She's decided to move to Tree Hill, which is a blessing in some regards, but frustrating in others. She's talked Jake into sharing a house with her, since he also decided to go to Duke with me. They both tried to get me to share with them, Jake out of fear of being alone with her, I think, but I declined, perfectly fine living in my parent's basement for the time being.

They headed down there before I did to look for houses and get settled in. I feel bad for Jake, because while I know that he enjoys Brooke's company, she's a little pushy for his tastes. For that very reason, it is nice to have a breather, from both of them. Jake has set up camp in the 'give Nathan another chance' side, which I really can't decide if that is done only to piss Brooke off or not.

It doesn't matter, though, because the three of us all have lives that are going to be very separate from each other's, which is probably for the best. Brooke is kind of hanging in limbo right now, trying to find a job. She ended up majoring in general studies because she slacked off too much to focus on one specific subject, so she got her general degree. Now she doesn't know what she wants to do with it.

I tried to explain to her that Tree Hill isn't exactly sporting an overabundance of career options, but she didn't care, she wanted to come here. So, she's out looking for jobs today as Jake and I shop for groceries to stock their place up. I figured I'd help him out since I'll inevitably be spending a lot of time with the two of them eating over there.

"How can you tell if a potato is ripe?" Jake asks, his brow furrowed in consternation, "I mean, they all look dirty and gross, and they're all hard as rocks."

"Jake, they're potatoes, they're supposed to be firm. If they have soft spots, they probably aren't good," I tell him, "And they're a root, so of course they're dirty."

"Oh, okay," he sighs, and puts a few in a bag. I grab a few cartons of blueberries as he looks at the apples on display. "Okay, what about these apples?"

"What about them?" I ask, amused.

"Which ones are good?"

"Jake, you've never had an apple before?" I question, laughing, "Come on, I don't buy that one, not for a second."

"Well, yeah, I've had apples, but I don't know which ones I'm supposed to buy at the store. Look at all of them," he whispers, pointing, "There's like fifteen different kinds! How do I know which ones are good?"

"Have you ever been produce shopping before?" I ask him, confused by how he could be so dense about these things, but be majoring in medicine.

"I – well, you know how my hometown was really close to campus," he explains, motioning me closer, "Well, my, uh, my mom would come, and – "

I laugh, cutting him off. "Jake! You're one of the most capable guys I know, and your mom was still doing your grocery shopping!"

He blushes, trying to shush me. "You say it like she's ironing my underwear or something, geez. It isn't that bad. She just bought my groceries."

"Oh, my God, you're a mama's boy!" I giggle hysterically, patting him on the arm when he blushes a deeper shade of red. "Oh, Jake, this is so funny. Brooke is going to die when I tell her!"

"Brooke knows how to pick out produce?" he grumbles, "I guess I really am ignorant and useless, huh?"

"No, no," I assure him quickly, trying to get my laughter under control, "It's just kind of cute that you don't know anything about shopping." We walk over and grab some oranges. "You know, before we left for college, my mom made Nathan spend the day with her learning how to do laundry, grocery shop, and cook a few basic things. She knew his parents would never think of that, and that's the only reason he knew. Funny thing was, he already knew all those things from watching her over the years. But he played along so he wouldn't hurt her feelings."

"You miss him, don't you?" he asks, although I think it is more of a statement than a question, "I can tell, it is in your voice."

I shrug, looking away. "Sometimes. Actually, a lot of the time, but I miss the old Nathan, not who he turned into."

"Maybe he's still got that other guy in him. You should just give him a chance, you know?" he again reasons. "And quit listening to Brooke. You know I think she's a fun girl, but she's a raging bitch about some things, and controlling your life is one of them."

Control? "It's not that bad," I deny, "I mean, it isn't like she's a drill sergeant taking over my life, you know?"

"She's not too far off, Hales, at least not where Nathan is concerned." He sighs. "Look, I like her, and I know how important she is to you. But maybe you need to tell her to mind her own business on the Nathan matter, okay?"

"I have, Jake. I'm not a complete pushover, contrary to current patterns of behavior. It's just really hard because she's right about a lot of things, you know?"

"Right about what?" he scoffs, as we wander through the meat and poultry section. "About Nathan? Look, he treated you bad by moving you out of his bed, but are you sure that's the real reason you're mad at him? Come on, Hales, you're a smart girl, and I'm a smart guy."

"Just spit it out, Jake. Say what's on your mind, everyone else does," I grin, throwing some chicken into a bag and dropping it in the cart.

"You love him," he says plainly, causing me to freeze for a minute before relaxing. "No, let me re-phrase that – you're in love with him. Subtle difference, I know."

"Jake, come on," I sigh, not wanting to get into this at the grocery store, "Things are complicated, I'm not denying that."

"Well, what isn't complicated? God, grocery shopping is complicated. I mean, you have to not only know how to pick out produce, but you have to watch out for the crazy people with coupons who would do anything for that last bag of Doritos," he points out dramatically, causing me to laugh.

"I'm not going there with Nathan," I tell him stubbornly, "I'm not opening myself up to him in that way, only to have him stomp on me again. It's just not a feasible option for me, okay?"

He nods. "Okay, fine. I'll drop it for now. Hell, I'll drop it forever if that's what you'd like, but if I drop it, then Brooke has to drop it, too. It's got to be your decision. You're the one who has to live with it, right?"

I nod. "Yeah, right. My decision. Hopefully I can make the right one, huh?"

"You will," he grins, "I have no doubt of that."

"Have we got everything off of Brooke's list yet?" I ask, only half paying attention to him, still ruminating on what he said about me being the one to live with things.

"Uh, let me see," he says, scanning it, "Oh, ew. Okay, you're going to have to go get those for her. And get the thing below them, too. I'm not buying condoms for her, either. I think she needs to do her own shopping next time." He shakes his head. "Well, at least she's careful. I'd hate to see little Brookes running around."

I laugh at him, grabbing the list away from him and wandering off to pick up the condoms and whatever else is on her list. I see what she's written for the condoms, and I turn back to Jake, crinkling my nose. "She's very specific, isn't she?"

"Please, let's never speak of this again," he mutters, "Those aren't even the bad thing on her list."

I laugh at him and walk over to aisle the condoms are kept and search to find the ones she requested. When I find them, I grab an economy pack and stand up to read the rest of the things Jake wouldn't get for her. "Oh, Jesus," I mutter aloud, "Lube?" Shaking my head, I grab it, and hide it behind the condoms. "This is great."

It's the third thing on the list that gives me pause, though. It shouldn't be; I've been buying these for myself in this very store since I was twelve, but staring at that word now makes me stop. Tampons, tampons, when was the last time I had to buy them? My mind is racing furiously trying to do the damn math, but I can't figure it out. All I know get is that it has been a long time, probably at least two months. Maybe since before Nathan and I slept together.

"Oh, my holy crap," I whisper to myself, clumsily dropping the boxes I've grabbed in this aisle. I leave them on the ground, and pull my cell phone out, scrolling to the calendar. "Shit, shit, shit," I mutter, "This cannot be happening. No!"

"Haley?" Jakes call from behind me. He's at the end of the aisle, refusing to come in like there's a force field keeping him out or something. "You get the stuff?"

I nod, "Yeah, hang on a sec." My voice is shaky and strange, and he looks at me like I've grown a third head, but just nods and indicates he'll be at the checkout lane.

I grab the tampons she requested, and pick the other items up off the floor. I stop in front of the pregnancy tests, debating with myself. If I get one now, Jake will know, but if I don't, it'll drive me crazy wondering. I grab two, figuring better safe than sorry, and book it up to the checkout lane where Jake is waiting.

"You get the goods?" he asks, all goofy-like.

"Yeah, I did," I assure him, dropping them in the cart, hoping that maybe he won't notice the extra items I tossed in there.

"Uh, Hales, I don't think those were on the list. Or, oh, did I miss them?" he asks, all scandalized like. "Oh, no, little Brookes running around!"

"Jake," I sigh, trying to hush him up, "It's not what you think."

"Well, I think it's a pregnancy test, and I don't know if I want to live with a crazily, hormonal Brooke. She'd probably start sacrificing live chickens and bathing in urine or something. That would smell bad!" he exclaims, clearly starting to panic.

I wouldn't have thought that anything could make me laugh in the midst of this situation, but I burst into laughter. He stares at me like I've lost my mind. "I'm sorry," I gasp out between laughs, "But you are so paranoid, Jake! You can't only not grocery shop, but you have weird delusions about what pregnancy does to a woman!"

"Not just any woman," he clarifies, "Brooke. And why aren't you freaking out about the possibility of her spawning? I know you're best friends, but come on, you have to admit it's a scary possibility."

"It's not her possibility," I admit, my voice cracking as the laughter finally floats away out of my grasp and the fear and the panic take place.

"You mean," he begins, only to trail off.

"Yeah, it's not hers, it's mine." I shrug, and we both fall silent, lost in our own thoughts on the subject. Neither one of us says anything more about it as we finish up at the checkout stand, and don't speak at all except to tersely thank the cashier and bag boy as we guide our cart out the store.

"So, say something," I tell him as we put the groceries in the trunk of his car, "I mean, you must have a thousand questions or something, right?"

He shakes his head. "I was actually kind of thinking that maybe I don't really want to know any of the details, okay?"

I nod, choking back the tears that are threatening. I don't even know for sure, but I'm so damned freaked out about the mere possibility that it is practically suffocating me. Jake notices and pulls me into a hug. The simple gestures causes the floodgates to open and the tears to spill out.

"I'm so scared, Jake," I whisper into his chest, "What if I am?" Crap, I can't even say the word out loud, what does that say about my potential ability to parent?

"Hey, it'll be okay either way, Haley. I have no doubt of that." I cry harder, and he ushers me into the car, turning it on and cranking the A/C. "Hang tight," he says, going back to finish putting the groceries in the car.

He comes back and gets in, handing me a box of tissues he pulled out from behind my seat. "Thanks," I mutter, looking out the window.

"Why are you freaking out already?" he asks practically, "You don't know one way or another right now. It seems unnecessary to get crazy over something that may or may not be a reality."

I nod, hearing his words, understanding his words, but they don't sink in to the point where I can agree with him. "I'm panicking," I admit, "If I am, it's just – everything changes. Everything, there won't be one single aspect of my life that is the same."

"Hey, hey, calm down, Haley. Look, let's just go back to the house, and you can do whatever it is you have to to take the test, okay?" I nod, and give him a tremulous smile.

"Hey, Jake?" He glances over at me. "Thanks. A lot."

He grins at me. "Hey, you know that's what friends are for."

"And you've been a great one," I tell him, smiling, "Which is kind of weird, all things considered." He raises his eyebrows at me. "What, it is!" I exclaim.

"How so?"

"Well, you and Nathan were roommates and buds, and now here we are, going to med school together and you're living with one of my best friends. Kind of funny how things turn out," I explain, glad to have a subject aside from this – this whatever it is, even if for a moment.

"I guess it isn't the most conventional start to a friendship, but it works." He pulls out of the parking lot. "So, where are the hot girls in this town?"

I have to laugh. "In case you haven't noticed over the past couple of weeks since you've been here, there isn't much in the way of a town. And therefore, there isn't much in the way of hot girls old enough to date you. You'll be better off sticking to picking up girls at school," I inform him, "Unless you like the underage ones?"

"Hah, no thanks. Seriously, there aren't any girls our age in this town? Besides you and Brooke?" he asks.

"I don't know, I'm sure there are a few. It's just that most of us leave when we graduate for college or wherever. Not many people want to stick around."

"And yet, you're back, and you've let me and Brooke move to this dive. Many thanks," he mutters sarcastically.

"It isn't as bad as I make it sound. Besides, I think it has more to do with size than anything. You know how most high schoolers can't wait to leave home? Get out on their own?" He nods. "Well, that's even truer when you live in a town this size. No one wants to stay, and a lot of people do end up leaving."

"Oh, you hicks, you don't know what you want," he teases. I know he's trying to keep my mind off things, and to an extent it is working, but my mind keeps wandering to those stupid boxes in the trunk. All I can see are one line, two lines, pink, blue, and I don't even have a clue what I'm going to do.

"Quit thinking about it, Haley. It isn't doing you any good," he points out knowingly, "Just relax for a few. You can freak out while you're waiting for the results."

I nod, fidgeting restlessly in my seat. "I'm just – it's stupid, but I never considered the possibility. And then, there I was, standing in that stupid, embarrassing aisle with Brooke's purchases, and I tried to count. I didn't know, though, so I looked at the calendar on my phone." I groan, burying my hands in my face. "It's possible, Jake, it really is."

He's silent for a minute, and I can only imagine what he's thinking. Probably that he's damn glad it isn't him in this position. "You're a smart girl, Haley, and you'll figure out how to deal with whatever it ends up being."

"I don't feel very smart right now," I admit, "I feel really dumb, in fact. I should've seen this coming, you know? I mean, there've been little things that should've made me think, but I just brushed them off thinking it was stress or something."

"Dare I ask what these things are?" he asks cautiously, obviously not having much experience in the realm of child bearing or pregnancy.

"They aren't gross," I smile, "I've just gained some weight. And I'm tired a lot. Been sick a few times. Nothing major, right? But if you put it all together, it makes sense."

"It could just as easily be nothing, right? Maybe all those pepperoni sticks are catching up with you finally. You eat them like they've stopped making them and they won't still be 'fresh' in eighty years."

"Hey!" I exclaim, smacking him on the arm, "Are you calling me a pig?"

"Just for pepperoni," he laughs, "No, really, Haley, I'm just trying to remind you that this could be anything. It could be nothing, even."

I nod half-heartedly, beginning to know he's wrong. Now that the thought has been put in my head, I can't get rid of it, and it is seeming more and more and more likely by the second.

He glances over at me again as he pulls the car into the driveway of their place. "You really think you are?" he asks.

"I don't know, I'm beginning to," I admit with a bitter laugh, "It's funny, all of my sisters and sisters-in-law have children. You'd think I'd be aware enough to know when I was going to have one, huh?"

"Well, come on, let's get these groceries inside," he says after a lengthy pause. "Maybe you can do that before Brooke gets home."

I look at him, grateful that he brought that suggestion up. "Oh, God, I've got twenty minutes until she gets back. I'm going now. You okay with the groceries?"

He nods, waving me off. He's probably thrilled at this point to have me and my drama traumas out of his hair for awhile. Brooke is probably looking better and better to him as a roommate with each passing second.

I read the directions carefully, and then take the test. That part is quick, but the five minutes the box says I have to wait will undoubtedly be the longest of my life. I check the time on my watch, and spend the first minute pacing around the bathroom. It feels like the walls are closing in on me, though, so I step in the hallway trying to catch my breath.

Time slows to the point where I think it has actually stopped. I can wait what I think is four minutes, look at my watch and see it has only been thirty seconds. It's excruciating, but when the five minutes have finally passed, I still can't bring myself to go back in there and see what the results are.

"Jake?" I call from the top of the stairs, "Could you help me for a second?"

"Yeah, sure," he agrees as he walks up the stairs, "What can I do for you, ma'am?"

"Check the test for me," I ask, nervously twisting my hands together, "I can't look at it. I'm too scared to check it myself."

He nods, stepping in the bathroom. I nervously pace in front of the door, which basically amounts to spinning in a little circle. "Haley?" he asks softly.

"Yeah?"

"It's, um, it's positive."

I stare at him for a second before hastily nodding, taking the stick from him. Sure enough, there is the little plus sign. I glance up at him, nodding again. "Oh. Okay. Well."

"Haley," he begins, grabbing my arm when I start to walk off, "Hey, stop." He pulls me to him, and I burst into tears. "It's going to be okay, Hales. You – you have options."

I sniffle, nodding. "I know, it's just that I can't do that. My parents, they raised me to believe that while it is necessary in some cases, that it isn't necessary or a good choice to use it as a tool to fix a screw up."

"But if you don't want to," he reasons, "Then how is that better?"

I shrug, kind of at a loss for words. "It's just not in the realm of possibility for me," I tell him, knowing that it isn't, "That's not how I would choose to deal with a mistake or accident, you know?

He nods, "You know what's best for you." He peers at me intently. "You okay? You look kind of green. You're not going to get sick, are you?"

"Not physically," I assure him, smiling wryly, "But if this sends me spinning towards mental illness, don't be surprised, okay?"

He manages a laugh at that. "I'm going to go finish putting the groceries away, and then there was something on TV I wanted to check out."

"Ooh, I'll watch with you!" I declare, surprised when he looks not thrilled with that idea. "What? Is watch TV a euphemism for porn or something?"

"No, no, of course not," he blushes, "It's just that I don't think you're going to want to watch what I have in mind."

"What is it?" I ask, totally wanting to do something to get my mind off it, even if that means watching dumb 'guy' programming. "Is it wrestling? Cuz I kinda like wrestling sometimes!"

"Uh, it's the draft," he explains.

"The draft? Oh. The draft," I sigh, understanding dawning. "I – I don't mind watching that. I mean, it isn't like – well, I don't know what you're thinking it's like, but it isn't that bad, I swear."

"Hale, I know he's probably not what you want to be thinking about right now."

"Like I could stop if I tried?" I ask him, "I mean, seriously, how am I not supposed to be thinking of him right now? Look what's going on! I'm pregnant with his child. If I haven't keeled over from that, I think I can handle watching the draft that he may or may not even be selected in."

He nods, a little shell-shocked at my outburst. "Well, he probably won't be selected during the televised part, at least. But Markus has a good chance of going in the first or second round. Figured it'd be fun to see him."

"Well, that works for me," I agree, "So, let's just watch. And let's keep this other thing between us. I don't want to deal with unwanted and unnecessary opinions yet, okay?"

He nods, agreeing. "I don't blame you on that one."

"Is that all I am?" Brooke questions from the bottom of the stairs. We blink at each other in surprise before turning to her. "Next time you don't want me to find out your big secret, you might want to gossip about it just a smidge quieter," she says snidely before stomping off into the kitchen.

"Well, have fun with that one," Jake says apologetically as he backs toward the sanctity of his bedroom.

"Thanks," I mutter sarcastically as he goes. He gives me a little shrug, and disappears into his room. "Great," I mutter as I start down the stairs. I can hear her slamming around in the kitchen, so I know she's _really_ pissed.

"Brooke," I begin as I walk in there.

"Why wouldn't you want me to know?" she snaps out, "I've been nothing but supportive of you, and this is how you'd repay me? By lying and hiding things from me that you'd tell Jake? What the hell is that?"

"Look," I begin, trying to take the road where I don't have to be an evil bitch to her, "I just found out myself, and I'm not ready to discuss it, okay?"

"Bullshit," she spits out, "Again, I reference Jake. He knows! Why can he know, but I can't? Come on, Haley, I tell you everything!"

"I know that, Brooke," I sigh, feeling awful that I wasn't going to tell her, "And I'm sorry. This is just really new and overwhelming, and I need some time to think about things. I just didn't want to talk about it."

"Why? I don't get this at all, Hales," she says plaintively, and I feel so bad, "I mean, isn't that why people have friends? To talk through stuff like this?"

"Brooke, this isn't choosing an outfit to wear. This is major, and anything that needs to be talked through should probably be done between Nathan and me."

Her mouth drops open in horrified shock. "You're telling him?" she gasps, "You're giving him an in with this? You're beyond hopeless, Haley!"

"How could I not tell him?" I scoff, "I mean, I'm not exactly looking forward to it, but he has a right to know."

"So, you'll keep it then. And you think that piece of shit bastard has any rights here? You're delusional," she spits, "Delusional and crazy! Look at all he's already done to you! How could you put yourself – or a kid – in a position for him to continue doing those things?"

I'm silent for a minute, trying to think of what to say. Finally, "This isn't your decision to make, Brooke. And since it's mine, I need to make one that I'm comfortable with. And withholding info like this from Nathan is not that decision."

She shakes her head at me. "You know, it's disgusting the way you let him treat you, the way you let him walk all over you."

There are a thousand arguments I could make against that statement, but I don't have the energy or the emotional strength to do it right now. "I'm going to go watch TV with Jake," I tell her, my voice sounding hollow and defeated to my own ears, "You can tell me how disgusting I am later, okay?"

"Haley, I didn't mean it that way," she says, her tone pleading, "I'm sorry."

"I know you didn't," I tell her tiredly, "But you still said it, and I don't want to have to think about that right now. We'll talk about this later, okay?"

She nods jerkily, and I know I've hurt her feelings, but it hurts mine too when she acts like this. And the only time she ever acts like this is when Nathan is involved. I just can't deal with her hatred towards him right now, I have way too much going through my own head.

I find Jake in his room watching the draft, as promised. "How'd it go?" he asks, glancing away from the TV.

I shake my head. "About as well as you expected, I'm sure. It's just such a mess, Jake. How am I going to get through this? And without Brooke being supportive, it will be downright impossible, you know? I need her to not badmouth every decision I make regarding Nathan."

"Tell her to butt out if she doesn't play by your rules," he suggests, as if it were that easy. "Look, it isn't her place to tell you what to do. She can support your decisions like a friend, or she can tell you she disagrees with them, but she can't treat it like this is her situation."

I nod, my gaze fixed on the TV, but not really seeing. "I'm pregnant," I whisper finally, still in disbelief, denial. "I cannot believe that I am pregnant. How did this happen?"

He looks at me, amused. "Well, you see, Haley, when a boy likes a girl – "

"Jake," I whine, "Don't be funny, I can't laugh right now."

"It's okay to laugh, Haley," he reminds me again, "It might not be a situation you expected, but it isn't the end of the world. It isn't like the apocalypse is going to rain down on us any minute now or anything."

"You don't know that for sure," I tell him, "I mean, I'm the responsible one! All around, other people mess up! Nathan messes up, Brooke messes up, my sisters and brothers messed up, even my parents messed up! But not me, never like this. Never like this!"

"It's okay to mess up, Haley."

"No, it's not! How am I going to tell my parents? God, you know what my mom will say?" He shakes his head no. "She'll say how great it is that Nathan and I are finally together, and how can I tell her what really happened? How can I tell the kid what really happened between Nathan and I when it asks, fifteen years down the road? This is impossible!" I rage.

He sits up straighter. "It's not impossible," he argues, "It's inconvenient for you. That's what your problem is. We all know that you're perfectly capable of taking care of a baby, right? And you can provide for it if you have to. It just doesn't fit into your plans, and it's throwing you off track. That's all."

I stare at him blankly for a minute. "So, you think that I'm treating this like a pesky bug that keeps trying to land on my food? Because that is inconvenient, Jake! A baby is a major thing! It is more than a minor inconvenience."

"Hey, I never said anything about minor," he defends, "I know that you are going to have a lot to figure out. My only point is that this isn't something that is impossible. In fact, I'm sure there are plenty of people who have had kids in far worse situations than yours."

"Well, you're not very sympathetic," I grumble, frustrated he won't just let me cry and be childish about this. I don't want someone making me act mature and reasonable yet. I want my day or two to be selfish and bratty, and moan about the disruption this will bring to my life.

"I'm more sympathetic than you'll ever know," he informs me, his tone cryptic, "But I also know that the longer you wallow and wait to deal with it, the harder you're making it on yourself." He leans back, sighing. "Look, I'm just going to say this once, and then never mention it again: call Nathan soon. Don't wait too long. He deserves to know, and you deserve to have someone to share this with."

I nod, hearing his words and knowing he's right. But knowing doesn't really make any of this easier, so it's hard to motivate myself to act on it. "Thanks for not pushing me," I tell him, suddenly really glad to have him as a friend and to have him here.

"Hey, it isn't my place," he grins, "And I'm not Brooke enough to make it my place, either."

"Thanks, Jake," I tell him, giving him a half-hearted smile.

"You're welcome, Haley," he replies, "Just remember that it isn't that bad." I give him a look. "Well, it could be worse. A lot worse. If we were in China, and you had a girl, you might have to leave it out to die of exposure so you could try again and have a boy."

"Jake!" I exclaim, "What a horrid thing to say!"

"It's true!" he counters, "We learned about it a civics class I took in high school. Since they have – well, had, anyway, a rule that you could only have one child – as population control – many people took to killing girl children because boys were considered more valuable. I guess that's a generation of boys who will be pretty sorry."

"If you know crap like that, remind me never to play Trivial Pursuit with you," I mutter, half-serious, my mind again wandering off to places I'd rather it not go right now.

"Go talk to Brooke." I look over at him in surprise. "Seriously, you'll feel better. She probably has a major apology planned out, and you know better than to listen to what she says about Nathan. But she's your friend, so you should let her apologize."

"You think so?" He nods. Thinking about it, he's probably right. God knows I need her support right now, and the look on her face when I left earlier was pretty sad. I know I hurt her with my brush off, but her whole hatred of Nathan frustrates and confuses me.

"Hey, if you don't like what she has to say, you can always tell her where to stick it, right?" he grins, giving me a small shove.

"Yeah, yeah, thanks," I grumble, but smile and walk out of the room. I check her room first, but she's not there. I find her in the backyard, finally, after searching through the house. "Hey," I call as I approach her.

"Hey," she mumbles quietly, looking away from me, fixing her gaze at something in the yard behind hers, "Come to yell some more?"

"No," I answer softly, sitting on the ground in front of her, "I just came to say that I am sorry for yelling at you. I'm still kind of upset with some of the things you said, but I shouldn't have said some of things that I did, so maybe it's a wash."

She nods, but doesn't say anything at first, just continuing to stare at whatever is in her sight. Finally, she looks up at me. "I'm sorry that it hurts you, but I don't like Nathan. I don't trust him, and I think it is foolish that you do. But I also get that what I think doesn't matter so much, and I'll try not to bother saying so much on that subject."

"Brooke, I respect your opinions, even on this subject. But I just need you to respect that I have to do what is right in this damn situation for everyone, including him." She nods mutely. "So, maybe we can agree to disagree or something," I finish with a shrug.

"I'd really like that," she agrees, "I just don't want you to hate me, Hales. You're one of the few people I've ever really trusted to not turn on me, and I really don't think I could take it if you did, you know?"

I grab her hand and pull on her until she giggles and falls down beside me. I giggle, too, telling her, "You'll always be my friend, Brookie, no matter what. I'd hate it if you weren't, you know?"

"So, we're okay, then?" she asks, sort of timidly.

"Oh, of course we are. We just need a few ground rules on this, okay? Like no more Nathan discussion, okay?"

She raises an eyebrow at me. "Do you really think that is possible, Hales? You're pregnant. With his kid. I mean, he's going to come up in conversation, don't you think?"

"Okay, so we can't avoid the situation altogether. But you can stop from dropping your opinions on whether what I'm doing is right or wrong constantly, okay?"

She nods. "I just don't want to see you get hurt, and I'm sorry, this will be the last time I say it, but Nathan will hurt you. He already has! I wish you could see that he's not good enough to have even a small place in your life!"

"This isn't about small places, Brooke. I'm pregnant, I'm keeping the baby, and he's the father. That's so the opposite of small that it isn't even funny."

"Exactly, Haley!" she exclaims, "That is exactly why you need to be careful around him! This isn't some little thing – this is huge. This is going to affect you and this baby every day for the rest of your lives! You should really give some careful consideration as to what role you want him playing in that."

I sigh, heavily. "Brooke, this is exactly what we shouldn't be getting into, you know?" She sighs, too, nodding. "I know you're just thinking about what's best for me, but I have to think about what's – what's best for this kid, you know?"

She shakes her head. "And since when is having a deadbeat like Nathan in a kid's life considered what is best by anyone?"

"He's not a deadbeat," I sigh, "And he hasn't done anything that makes me think he shouldn't be allowed to know he's having a child, you know?"

She shrugs. "Different strokes, I guess, but I think he's done a whole shitload of things that prove exactly that."

"I can't do that, Brooke," I sigh, "I just can't not tell him. If nothing else, don't you think that would make me sink down to his level?"

"No," she disagrees, "Absolutely not. Sinking down to his level would be like stabbing him on the basketball court or something."

"I'm not a deranged fan, or something," I tell her, crinkling my nose in distaste, "And that's hardly what he did to me."

"He didn't stab you in the back?" she challenges, "Come on, Haley, I think you used those exact words yourself at some point."

"Maybe I did, but figurative is a lot different than literal, you know?"

"So, what? It's all the same in the end, right?" I roll my eyes at her. "Oh, come on, Hales, I love you, but you are so dumb when it comes to Nathan!"

"How am I dumb when it comes to him?" I ask, curious as to what she'll say. "A little misguided and overly forgiving, but not really dumb."

"Dumb, yes! You let him get away with everything, Hales!" She reaches over and grabs my hand again. "I'm sorry, I know that's harsh. Look, you'll forgive him anything, and that's just not smart, babe. It just gives him the power to walk all over you time and time again. I don't want to see that."

"Neither do I," I chuckle, squeezing her hand, "And I love you for worrying, but this is something I've got to deal with. Like an adult, even."

She nods, dropping the subject. "So, how are you dealing with the other part of all this?" she asks, looking concerned at me.

I shrug. "I don't know, not really dealing with it at all, I guess."

"Why not? You're not freaking about it, are you?" I give her a 'duh' look, and she laughs a little. "I'm sorry, of course you're freaking. But come on, Hales, you know you'll be a terrific mother!"

I shake my head vehemently in denial. "I don't know that, Brooke! I don't know anything about children on a day to day basis, and I don't have a clue what it would take to raise one!"

She laughs, which sort of mystifies me. "I'm sorry," she chokes out, "But that's bullshit. You have like a bazillion little kids in your family, and one of your sisters was saying how you were the babysitting queen. And now you're trying to tell me that you know nothing about kids?"

"Not enough to have one of my own," I whisper, trying not to cry, "I'm just so freaked out, Brooke. I don't know how I'm going to do this. I have med school to think about, and I'm going to have about a zillion lab classes that will monopolize my time. Plus, I already promised my parents I'd get a job. How am I going to manage all of that?"

"You'll find a way. You'll get people to babysit for you, and you'll find a job that has a daycare onsite. Maybe you'll even have cool professors who will let you bring the kid to class," she shrugs, not seeming too concerned about it.

"How many professors have you seen willing to let people bring babies to class, Brooke?" I retort, frustrated at how blasé she is about this. It is a huge deal, and no one but me is treating it as such.

"I don't know, but I'm sure there are some. Especially if it shows that you're willing to work hard to do well in class."

I shrug, willing to let the subject drop for now. "Well, Jake suggested that we all go out and find something fun to do this afternoon. You game?"

"Fun? Around here? You have to be kidding me," she laughs, "This town is like a pamphlet for the antithesis of fun."

"Hey, I tried to warn you," I remind her as we push ourselves to our feet and make our way into the house, "I told you this is the most boring place on earth."

"Well, then I guess it is up to us to liven it up, huh?" she grins as we walk up the stairs, "Now, why do I get the feeling that it doesn't really matter what I wear?"

"Because it doesn't," I grin back, "Your jeans and tank top are perfectly fine for everything in Tree Hill."

"Isn't that special?" she asks rhetorically.

"It's not like you had to grow up here," I point out, laughing, "Believe me, there is even less to do when you're 15 and don't have a car!"

she shudders at the thought. "Ugh, how could you have let me move here?" she asks, frowning, "I'm going to have to spend all my time learning how to sleep with my boyfriend's brother and play basketball and drive stupid American sports cars."

"What's wrong with American sports cars?" Jake asks as he walks down the stairs.

"Nothing, if you're a typical macho pig," Brooke grumbles, and I laugh when he growls at her.

"Brooke's just mad that there's nothing to do in this dive," I inform him, "She thinks she's going to turn into one of us soon."

"What's wrong with small town life, Brooke?" he asks in a teasing voice, "I mean, you can always shop at the country store or the Dairy Queen."

"Shut up, Jake!" she exclaims, dead serious, "Oh, my God! Have I made a huge mistake? What am I gonna do here?"

Jake and I both burst out laughing. "Brooke," I try to soothe her, "You'll get a job and you'll make more friends. There aren't a ton of people our age here, but you'll meet some."

"And we aren't that far from a bigger city," Jake reasons, "And Durham is a college town, so you know there's a lot to do there."

"Yeah, it's always great to have to go to the next town over to have some fun," she snorts, and then sighs, probably realizing what a fool move it was to come to Tree Hill. "And what the hell are we going to do tonight? Go to that little Podunk mall you all have here?"

Jake and I exchange glances. "We could go to the movies," I suggest after a lengthy silence, "Or we could walk on the beach or something."

She looks so dubious about these options that Jake jumps in. "Or there's that bar on the west side of town. It's supposedly pretty new and clean. We could do that."

"I don't know, a bar would be smoky, and I don't think I'm supposed to be around that," I point out, "Maybe the movies is a better option."

Jake grins again. "Nope, the bar is non-smoking. Apparently, the owner or manager or something lost a relative to lung cancer, and so they've made their joint smoke-free. How cool is that?"

I frown, not wanting to spend any time in a crowded, hot, stuffy bar, but if the two of them will have fun, then I'm not going to object. "This place must be really new; I haven't even heard of it."

"Well, it sounds better than seeing some shit chick flick," Brooke decides with a smile, "And who knows? Maybe things have changed a little, and there are some fun young people to make friends with."

"Like the ones you have aren't good enough?" Jake teases her.

"Oh, you know what I mean. You're going to be busy with school, and you'll probably meet some pretty med school dork. Haley is going to be busy with school, and then she'll be busy with a baby," she shrugs, "I'm just thinking that you guys are going to be a whole lot busier than I will, and that I need to do something to prevent it."

I shiver at the reminder that I'm pregnant. It goes unnoticed by them as Jake tries to reassure Brooke that she'll find plenty to do, like work. It gives me a minute to sink slowly into my own thoughts as we walk down to Brooke's car. It's like I can block out this whole pregnancy thing for a few minutes, but then it all just comes crashing back over me like a tidal wave.

Jake and Brooke continue bantering, not even noticing that I've fallen silent. Or perhaps they have, but they're choosing to ignore it for now and let me have my thoughts. It's fine with me either way, though, as I'm only partially up for pretending like nothing is wrong right now.

"Haley, get in the car," Brooke orders, looking at me strange, "Unless you were planning on walking alongside it?"

I open the door and climb in, buckling my seatbelt. I let my hand linger over my lower stomach, mixed emotions swirling through me. I've never been one to think that babies are bad things, but I do think that this baby has particularly bad timing. Frankly, I'm not sure if I'm emotionally equipped to deal with having Nathan's child, let alone financially or logistically.

I jump when Brooke pokes me on the arm. "Yeah?" I ask.

"Why are you so quiet? You're not supposed to be thinking about the things that make you quiet tonight, remember?"

I nod. "Yeah, I know, and I'm trying. Sort of. But there are some things that you just can't push all the way out of your mind."

She sighs sympathetically. "Well, we'll have so fun, and Jake and I will get so drunk and make such huge asses out of ourselves tonight that you will forget all about your problems," she promises.

Jake shakes his head. "I've got too much to do tomorrow to get hammered," he tells her, "But I'll still try and make a fool of myself."

"Gee, thanks, guys," I laugh, rolling my eyes at their goofiness. But I'm glad, though, that they're being so great tonight, reluctantly or not. It's nice to let them take my mind off of things for a little bit.

"Hey, we're here to serve," Brooke laughs, "Well, since I don't have a job or a boyfriend or any of those normal things that supposedly normal people have, I am at least here to serve."

"Yeah, some of us have lives," Jake teases her, earning a glare, "Hey, I'm not saying you don't, I'm just saying I do."

"You are both really obnoxious," I comment, leaning my head back against the seat, "I'm thinking I probably can't take either of you anywhere."

"You didn't already know that for sure?" Brooke smarts back, "Because for someone who is supposed to be smart, that's pretty lacking in common sense."

"Hey, if I had any common sense, the problems I'd be looking at right now would be a lot less than what I've got," I point out, referencing the difficult state of my life.

"Like you're so bad off," Brooke laughs, "I mean, you have a place to live, you're, you know, enrolled in med school, and you have totally awesome friends. Your only major malfunction is he who shall not be mentioned."

Jake rolls his eyes at me, but I brush the comment off. Basically, she could've said worse, and she could've said more. That she didn't shows me she's at least trying. And I can appreciate it, especially from Brooke.

"Anyway," I segue, "What's the name of this new bar that we are gracing with our presence? I can't believe a new bar came into town and I haven't heard about it. News like that usually travels even to the people who aren't in town."

Brooke shrugs. "Who cares? At least there's something to do here, finally. I was about to fall comatose."

"Drama queen much?" I laugh. She just shrugs as she follows the directions Jake is giving her, which makes me wonder how he knows his way around here so well already.

"How do you know where everything is already?" I voice my question.

"It's not that hard," he grins, "I mean, there are three 'main' roads, so once you figure out where they are going and where you are in approximation to them, then you pretty much know your way around."

"You're weird," Brooke informs him, crinkling her nose at him.

"Why, because I took a drive?" he chuckles, shrugging at me. I shrug back at him, rolling my eyes at their bantering.

"I do believe she is referring to the fact that you dorked out and apparently scoped out the entire town within the space of a few weeks."

"Let's face it, there is much to scope out here," he points out wryly, "It really didn't take long at all."

"No kidding," Brooke assents, looking dubiously out the window at the dense woods around us, "This is not the city, that's for sure."

Jake directs Brooke to pull into the parking lot of this new bar, which is named Red Rover. Brooke and I both glance at Jake in surprise. Him calling it a bar and the name of the joint suggest it be a total dive, but it looks more like a club than a bar.

"What is this place?" I ask, still trying to figure it out from the outside.

"I think it's a club," Brooke says as a horde of twenty-something girls walks by giggling. "That is definitely club attire they are wearing." She turns to me. "Aren't you glad I made you dress up, now?"

"Yeah, I think I am," I smile back at her, "So, this might be fun after all! This place looks pretty awesome."

I see some familiar faces as we walk into the bar, but no one I want to stop and chat with. A couple people say hi to me, and I say hi back. Brooke and Jake look at me funny, but it doesn't really process.

"What?" I ask.

"Are you going to introduce us to any of these people you know? I mean, hello," Brooke intones snottily, "Isn't that the whole purpose of this thing?"

I gasp in recognition. "Oh, my God, I am so sorry," I laugh, "I didn't even realize that I was doing that! I'm sorry, I'll definitely start introducing you guys to people that I recognize."

Jake just chuckles while Brooke looks mildly annoyed. "Well, I'm off to the bar," he announces, "Can I get you two anything? Beers all around?"

I'm about to reply that yes, I'd like a beer, when Brooke jumps in. "Jake, you dumbass! I can have a beer, but Haley is cut off for the next nine months."

I blush, but am unsure if it is because she said it aloud or if it is because I had actually let myself forget. "I'd love a Diet Coke," I tell him quietly.

"No!" Brooke exclaims, "No caffeine! It's bad for the baby!"

"Really?" I ask dully, sighing when she nods. I really need to get one of those books, I guess. "Can I get a water then? Or is there too much zinc in it that is harmful to babies?"

She shakes her head, missing the sarcasm. "Not that I'm aware of. But I can look into it for you."

Jake looks at her like she has a second head, pausing him in his quest for the bar. "How do you know so much about pregnancy?"

"Oh. You know what? It doesn't matter how I know so much on this particular subject, just that I do, right?"

Jake and I exchange glances. "You don't have a secret baby stashed somewhere, do you?" I ask, joking around.

"Of course not," she replies tartly, "I'm much more the Cruella DeVille type in that I'd turn it into a purse or something."

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that," I protest.

"I know," she sighs, "And I was just kidding, I promise. I'm not going to serve your baby for dinner or something."

Jake slings an arm around her shoulder. "Well, I think it's cool that you know so much about it," he tells her, "Now I'm off to get two beers and one water." He looks down at Brooke for confirmation. She nods, and he grins, walking off.

"What's going on, Brooke?" I ask, still wondering how she's so knowledgeable on the subject of impending motherhood.

She shrugs. "It's nothing, Hales. I promise. I guess my head is just in the clouds a little bit, thinking of everything that's happened today."

"It's been crazy," I agree, "Almost like none of it is real, you know?"

She smiles. "Yeah, I know. But you know what? It'll be hard, some of it, but it'll all be okay in the end. Things have their ways of working out."

I nod, sighing. "Yeah, I guess they will. Maybe when things sink in a little more, and everyone has a chance to deal with it all, it'll be easier, right?"

"Yeah, definitely. I mean, how could it not, right? Just takes some adjustment time, I think. We should expect that. Life has changed a lot the last couple of months, for all of us. New city, new school for you guys, hopefully new job for me soon, so yeah, lots of new stuff to deal with."

"New baby," I remind her with a sigh, "I cannot friggin' believe there is going to be a new baby. My new baby. How out of the blue is that?"

"You've got to stop being such a slut," she returns, laughing, "Seriously, Haley, what did you expect?"

"Hey," I laugh, rolling my eyes at her, "I lived the life of a monk for most of college. It's just my bad luck that the one time I let loose I'm too into the moment to think about protection. Which is stupid for other reasons, too." I pause for a minute while she looks on sympathetically. "I had myself tested," I confide.

"Yeah?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at me, "And I presume you came back clean?" I nod. "Thank God for small miracles."

"I guess worse things could've resulted from that night, huh?" She gives me a pointed look, but nods. "Although, realizing that Nathan can and will never be to me what I need from him was pretty shitty."

"Hey, Haley," she begins, but I cut her off.

"No, it's okay. I'm fine. Jake's taking an awfully long time, I think I'll go check on him. Maybe he needs help carrying something."

She looks like she wants to say more, but she just nods instead and let's me run away from the conversation. I give her the best smile that I can manage, which is probably closer to a look of pain than a look of happiness, but I tried. I stand up and wander towards the bar, spotting Jake on the far side, chatting up the bartender, a skinny blonde with curly hair.

"Sorry to interrupt," I grin as I step over by them, making sure to smile brightly at the pretty girl he was talking to, "But some of us are getting thirsty waiting for our promised drinks. And some of us are also being forced to endure semi-painful conversations with our other friends while we wait for our drink fetching friend to come back."

"Haley," Jake grounds out, clearly irritated. The bartender's eyes twinkle in amusement, though, so I know I'm not screwing anything up too badly for him. "It's so good to see you, what with the perfect timing and all."

"I do what I can," I smile, reaching a hand over the counter to the surprised bartender. Even I'm surprised at this burst of outgoingness. "I'm Haley, by the way."

"Peyton," she grins back, glancing at Jake with a small smile. "Since your, uh, friend, or uh, boyfriend here," she begins again, trailing off.

"Friend," Jake and I say simultaneously, and Peyton and I laugh. "Haley," he groans, "You're so helpful here, aren't you?"

Peyton glances at me, ignoring him. "So, since your friend didn't get your drink like he promised, can I get it for you now?"

I grin in gratitude. "Got any bottled water? If not, soda water works just fine."

"Designated driver?" she asks.

"Well, yeah, I guess I am in a way," I sigh, and Jake pats me on the shoulder. She looks at us oddly. "Oh, sorry, I'm pregnant." Jake looks surprised that I told, and I give him a small shrug. The more I say it, the easier it has to get, I guess. "I, ah, just found out today, so it's new. Really, really new."

A pained look crosses her face. "Um, congratulations. Let me get that water for you." She rushes off to the other side of the bar, leaving Jake and I to shrug at each other.

"Was it something I said?" I ask quietly, feeling bad about having chased the girl off. "Sorry, Jake, I didn't mean to run her off."

He nods, still looking perplexed. "I know, and I don't think you did. You didn't say anything wrong. She even enjoyed you picking on me."

"Oh, we all enjoy that," I assure him, smiling hesitantly at Peyton when she returns with a bottle of water for me. "Thank you so much. And I'm sorry if I said something."

"No, no," she's quick to assure us, "It wasn't you. I just – well, I'm a big dweeb sometimes, so you should totally ignore me when I go into that mode."

She gives us a tight smile, but seems to relax when both Jake and I drop the subject. "So are you new to town?" I ask, going for what _has_ to be a safe subject.

"Yeah," she beams, "How'd you know?"

Jake jumps back in. "Now, this one I can answer. Haley grew up in this Podunk little town, and since it is so small, she knows everyone around our age."

"It is small, isn't it?" she laughs, and both Jake and I grin in return, "But I think I like that about it. I've met about twenty-five people since I've been here, and I've seen them all at least once since then. Where else are you going to get that?"

"A dorm," Jake suggests.

"Ugh," I roll my eyes, "No one wants to relieve the horrors of those days. When I was a freshman, there was this one girl who always smelled like pee. Really."

"Oh, there was a girl in my dorm like that!" Peyton exclaims, "And if she left her door open too long, the smell would totally permeate the hallway. Oh, man, she went through three roommates before they gave up and let her keep her room as a single."

"And people think boys are dirty," Jake mutters, his nose crinkled in disgust, "But I don't think any of the guys in my dorm were that bad."

"Uh, what about the jock strap guy?" I remind him.

"Oh, well, he was bad," he concedes.

"Obviously you two went to college together," Peyton chimes in, "Did you know each other before that?"

Jake shakes his head. "My dorm roommate was her high school best friend. We were kinda friends after that, and now we're both at Duke for med school."

I snort, "It was a little more complicated than that, but that is the gist of it. But I'm back here living with my parents, and Jake is rooming with one of my best friends to save on rent. That's our story of getting stuck here. How about you?"

"Well," she begins as she wipes off the bar to our right, "I dropped out of college after my sophomore year. You know, dorm smells and all that." We all laugh. "But I got a job at the Red Rover in Virginia Beach, and when they decided to open one here, they sent me down as manager. That's my little story."

"Welcome to town," I grin, noticing Jake does the same, "Are you going to be here permanently then?"

She nods. "Yeah, it looks that way. As long as I don't fuck things up around here too badly."

"What are you doing tending bar if you're the manager?" Jake asks.

"One of the waitresses quit last week, so the usual bartender is filling in for them because she's way less klutzy with a tray than I am. And of course, that leaves me here, behind the bar."

"You need a waitress?" I ask, probably sounding ridiculously overeager, but what can I say? I'm needy right now.

"Yeah, are you interested?" I grin widely, nodding. "Are you sure, I mean, it isn't the most rewarding job in the world, and you'll probably spend most of the nights fending off the advances of drunk men – and boys."

"Yeah, I'm definitely interested," I laugh, "As long as you don't mind me working here. Of course, since I'm pregnant, it probably couldn't be permanent." Damn, I have none of this thought through, but I do know I need a job, and one has fallen in my lap. How can I not take it?

"Maybe we can transition you into something else," she suggests, looking happy and relieved, "If you could start soon, like this week, maybe, that would be really awesome."

"Yeah, I can do that!" I exclaim, "School doesn't start for a few weeks still, so that's perfect!"

"Oh, my God, thank you!" she cheers, leaning over the bar to hug me, "You have no idea how excited I am about this!"

Jake is laughing at the two of us in an indulgent way, and as I'm pulling away to respond, Brooke's voice booms loudly from behind. "What in the blue hell is going on here?"

Peyton pulls away from me like she's been burned, and Jake and I glance at each other in confusion as we turn around to see what's got her in a tizzy this time. "You okay, Brooke?" Jake asks, his brow furrowed, "We were about to bring you your drink."

She pushes in between, viciously shoving her finger in Peyton's face. "What rock did you crawl out from under that led you here?"

"Brooke," she sighs, looking torn and dejected, such a dramatic change from the perky girl who had been flirting with Jake and joking with me, "It's good to see you again."

"Oh, please, Peyton," she hisses, enraged, "Good and you are never things that go together in my world. So again, I ask, what are you doing here?"

"I'm the manager of this place."

"Great, are you stalking me now? There are laws against that, you backstabbing bitch!" Brooke screams.

"Whoa," Jake says recovering from the shock of the situation. He jumps up from his barstool, and pulls Brooke back, out of Peyton's face. "What's gotten into you, Davis?"

"This – this bitch," she spits out, glaring at Peyton who is shrinking away from her, "She was supposedly my best friend. But she shit all over that, and it appears she's back for more!"

"How was I supposed to know you were here, Brooke?" Peyton asks quietly, but she does take a step towards Brooke, looking less cowed. "Last I heard, you were in DC for school."

"Georgetown, you moron! I went to Georgetown. I was at Georgetown with these two. God, I cannot believe you're here." She turns to me. "And you! You were hugging that slutty bitch! What were you thinking, how could you do that to me?"

"Brooke, calm down, I'm sure that everything can be worked out," I try, wondering what exactly happened between Brooke and Peyton that had caused Brooke to be so hateful towards her.

"No, I won't calm down," Brooke tells me hotly, "She knew I liked Kevin, this guy we went to school with, but did that stop her from hooking up with him? No, of course not. Because pretty princess Peyton always got what she wanted."

She turns and storms out, with most of the other people in here watching her retreat. Peyton steps back up to the bar. "I'm really sorry about that. I totally understand if you don't want to work here anymore."

"No, it's uh, not your fault, Peyton. I think she's a little mad at me, and is probably taking some of it out on you," I tell her, knowing that could very well be the truth. Or at least part of it.

"I think I'll go check on Brooke," Jake sighs, looking irritated. He spares a smile for Peyton, though. "It was really nice to meet you. Maybe I'll get lucky and see you again soon."

"I'd like that," she says softly, "Thanks for chatting with me."

He nods, and turns to leave. "Meet you at the car, Hales."

"Okay," I agree. I turn back to Peyton. "I guess you're the one she occasionally rampages about when she's on the subject of friendship."

"Yeah, I'm sure that'd be me," she agrees, handing me another bottle of water. "Look, you don't have to stay and talk to me. I really understand, I do. She's your friend, and even though she and I haven't been friends for awhile, I do know her well enough to know that she's probably fuming that you're still talking to me."

I laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure she's working herself up into quite a tizzy," I agree, "But I wanted to stay and tell you I still want that job, if you'll take me. I guess I'd be bringing some baggage, huh?"

"What happened between Brooke and I, you know, it was a long time ago," she says carefully, "But in some ways, it was like it happened yesterday."

"What happened?" I ask, curious. Peyton doesn't seem like the backstabbing on purpose type, so I just want to know what happened. "It's none of my business, so forgive my nosiness."

"No, it's okay," she sighs, moving out of the way as a waitress hurries past her to grab some beers. She rubs tiredly at her eyes. "I got pregnant our junior year of high school. My dad spazzed, and Brooke was the only one really there for me. She went to Lamaze classes with me, and she read half the books and I read the other half. We were a team, and we were going to do right by that kid, you know?"

I blink in surprise. "That's how she knows so much about what's okay during pregnancy," I say, more to myself than anything.

She nods. "After I had the baby, Matty, Brooke met this guy, Kevin. She talked about him all the time. Turns out he was Matty's father. Brooke never knew that," she relates, "I couldn't tell her. She walked in on us kissing one afternoon. Funny thing is, it was a goodbye kiss. You obviously know Brooke, though, and you know she'd never believe that."

"You should tell her again. She might listen this time."

She shakes her head. "Nah, she wouldn't. Not Brooke, she's so stubborn. And sometimes when you let things go so long, there is no getting them back." She rubs her hand wearily over the back of her neck. "That's the case here. There's been nothing between us for so long, that we can't fix things now. There's nothing left to fix."

I think about her words, and the image of Nathan pops in my head. I can't help but wonder if her words are applicable to us, too. It seems like they could be – like the longer we let this go, the longer I keep him out of my life, the less the chance we'll have of ever fixing anything.

"Thanks for telling me," I tell her, "And thanks for the job. Can I show up tomorrow?"

"Yeah, that'd be great. We can get you trained and out on the floor in no time. And thanks, you know, for not bailing."

I nod, smiling. I turn to leave, but stop, turning back to her. "Now, this is definitely not my business, but you're a single mom?"

She shakes her head, tearing up. "I gave him up. After eight months, I just couldn't do it anymore. My dad wouldn't help, Brooke wouldn't talk to me, and Matty's father had split. We were living in my car, and I just couldn't do that to him, you know?"

"Oh, my God," I breathe, again being struck by how much worse some people have it than me, "That's terrible."

She shrugs. "He went to good people. I got to choose them myself, and I know they were really going to love him. Like I would. Like I do. He's better off, and unfortunately, so am I."

I impulsively reach out and squeeze her hand. "I should go. I know they're waiting, and neither are the most patient people in the world. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, good. See you."

I run back out to the parking lot, and climb in the backseat. "Sorry it took so long," I say quietly, not wanting to get into things with Brooke right now.

"No problem," Jake says, while Brooke remains quiet.

The drive back is silent, painfully so. I ask them to drop me off at Karen's Café, which is only a few blocks from my parent's house. It is sort of like walking into the lion's den of Scott activity in a way, but her muffins are melt in your mouth, and I'm craving them right now.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow," I tell them, and they both nod, agreeing. "Brooke, if you want to talk, call me, okay?" She nods, and manages a small smile. Maybe she's more upset over seeing Peyton again than she is that Peyton and I got along. That'd be nice.

I walk into the café, a place I haven't been in years, and am struck by just how unchanged it remains. Karen isn't behind the counter, but Lucas is, which is enough to almost have me turning around and walking out. He sees me, though, and rushes over.

"You're here?" he asks, almost like he's tripping or something.

"Yeah, genius, that I am," I reply dryly, wanting to grab a muffin and go, "What difference does it make to you?"

"Well, n – none," he stammers, "Just surprised I guess. Figured you'd never come back once you hightailed it out of here."

"Duke, med school," I offer by way of explanation. I don't know why I bother, though. Luke is one of the few people that I come close to hating in this world. The ways he's treated me, treated Nathan, are low, lower than low, in some regards, and he's never owned up to even an iota of regret or sorrow or guilt.

"Talked to Nathan lately?" he blurts out, and I blink at him in surprise.

"Why would you want to know that? I really don't see what business that is of yours." I shake my head. "Look, I just came here for one of those chocolate muffins. To go."

"Okay," he says slowly, and walks back behind the counter, "I just figured you'd have talked to him by now."

I shrug. "Well, I haven't, and it isn't any of your business, now is it?"

He frowns, irritated by my brush off. "Look, Haley, he needs you. He won't listen to me, and he's just throwing everything he has away. Maybe you're too heartless to care, but he needs you. You're the only one he ever listened to, anyway," he scoffs.

"Luke, I don't have time for this. I'm not in the mood for this. I don't even care about any of this right now," I spit, "And I don't even get why all of a sudden it is your place to tell me what I should be doing with regards to my relationship with Nathan. You of all people, should be glad we aren't friends anymore. Isn't that what you wanted all along?"

He shakes his head, "Look, Haley, things were different back then. What I did you to you and tried to do to Nathan was shitty, I know that."

"You're damn right it was," I ground out, interrupting him, "And I bet that even now, in the midst of all this brotherly bonding, you're still too cowardly to tell Nathan your real motives, what you tried to do to me, to him."

"No, he doesn't," he admits after a few minutes of silence, "And you can tell him if you want. You should tell him, probably."

I shake my head. "You don't get it, Luke. My relationship with Nathan has nothing to do with you. And frankly, you are the last person on earth that I'd ever take advice from in regards to it."

"I know that, which is why you should just talk to Nathan for his sake. Not because I'm telling you to, but because you want to, because he was your best friend for so long."

"Lucas, give me my muffin so I can go," I demand loudly, angrily. The few remaining people in here are probably staring at us now, but after Brooke's scene earlier, I find I'm immune to that.

"Fine," he huffs a sigh, reaching into the display case to grab me a muffin and drop it in a bag. I pull out a few dollars and pay him, turning to leave. "Wait," he calls, stopping me. I'll never know why I stopped. "Just talk to him, Haley. He's ruining his life, and I know it's because he feels like he ruined your friendship."

"Yeah, well, Lucas, he did. He did ruin our friendship."

He nods, looking dejected. There is also a look of mystification that is similar to the one Nathan would get when he'd feel conflicted about Lucas. "Look, this isn't about me, and it isn't even about you. This is about Nathan. He'll just let himself go until there is nothing anyone can do for him. You get that, right? He's all about wrecking himself, his life right now. I can't reach him. You could, though." He pauses, but continues. "And don't not do it out of spite towards me. You'd regret that forever.

I don't say anything else – there is nothing else left to say. But he's given me a lot to think about, but in some ways, it might've backfired for him. If Nathan is as bad as he says he is, then how am I supposed to expose a child to him? But then again, how can I not tell him the truth?

Nothing in this situation is fair.


	7. Shades of Mediocrity

A/N: Reviews are always appreciated. So is concrit. Up through chapter 16 of this story is written, and will hopefully be completed soon, so posting should be fairly regular.

**Chapter Six – _Shades of Mediocrity_**

Lucas is at it again, trying to tell me how to live my life and whatnot. He thinks he knows what is best for me, and for some reason I cannot understand, he seems to think that involves coming back to Tree Hill. After the whole draft fiasco, I briefly considered it, but Tree Hill is not a place I can stomach being, especially without Haley.

Now here I am, about a month a half later, stopped on the side of the fucking road by the 'Welcome to Tree Hill' sign, trying not to vomit. Out of all the places in the world, this is one of the last that I ever expected to end up in again. It really makes me feel ill in some ways. Luke keeps telling me that this is for the best, that I need to get back to basics if I'm ever going to have another chance with basketball, but I don't know. I don't know if this is for the best, and I don't even know that I care to have another chance with basketball.

Luke doesn't get it, though. He doesn't get that I've run through all my chances with basketball. There aren't anymore waiting for me now. No one is going to knock on my door, no matter how many hours a day he has me out there practicing my jump shot or running speed drills. The people who might've taken a chance on me a few years ago now know that I'm not worth that chance, and they won't come calling again. I'll probably go along with his plan, though, and let him continue to live vicariously through me. In some ways, it feels like the least I can do, without having to get into things with him again, I guess.

But being back here, man, even on the edge of town in a spot that holds no memories, everything is flooding back to me. The good times with Haley are there, warring with all the bad times I had with my parents. Of course, the current bad times with Haley are rattling around in there, so of course the bad outweighs the good.

"I don't know what I'm doing here," I mutter aloud, frustrated with myself. "There cannot possibly be anything good left for me in this town."

Sighing, I realize that there is no point for me to just stand here, alone, on the side of the road outside of town. I jump back in the truck and start it, pulling back onto the road. A part of me still has that urge to turn the truck around and head as fast as I can in the opposite direction, but it feels like the ties of an invisible force are dragging me further into town, further into my misery.

Luke is living in Keith's old place, which seems more than a little morbid to me, but that's more applicable to him than me, so I've agreed to stay there. He seemed happy by that decision, which still surprises me. We've been getting along better, but sometimes I think about it and I wonder where it came from and how long it could possibly last.

As I drive towards Luke's, I force myself to think not of my parents and Luke and Keith, but of Haley, and some of the fun we had in the places that I pass on my way. It's oddly comforting to remember the time that she gave me her favorite Barbie doll because Dan had taken away all my toys except my basketball. I told her that her Barbie was a dumb, ugly girl's toy, offending her plenty, but I'd also hugged her like she was my lifeline before she went home that day.

We were about eight that day. I'll never forget it. She was just perfect, this little girl that was so happy and protective of me, and in her bright yellow shirt, she was the only sunshine in my world. She took me home, and her parents who I already loved and trusted more than my own fed me and let me play soccer in the backyard with the rest of the family. My dad never let me touch a ball that wasn't for the basketball court.

I remember having had so much hope back then. I really thought that things would be different, that I would be different. That I wouldn't turn into what my parents are, and that I wouldn't treat people the way they treat people. But I have and I do. And it burns, God, it burns. The knowledge that in many ways I have become what I fear, what I hate, seeps through me like poison, and I don't know how to stop any of it. I don't know how to be different, and even that feels like I'm falling back on an excuse.

Haley would tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself. She'd tell me that only I can make a difference in me, and that if I want something to change, I need to bust my butt and do it. It sounds easy put that way, but for me at least, things are never that easy. Almost automatically, my truck slows as I drive past Dan's dealership. I can see him, even from the road, yelling at one of his minions, as he calls them. Poor bastard.

I continue my perusal until I realize that if I can see him, he could see me, so I beat it out of here. The last thing I need is Dan and Mom realizing that I'm town. I'd never hear the end of it over what happened with the draft. He's already been up my ass about it as it is, and that's just through voicemail messages.

He hates me. He said so. He acts like the draft thing is what pushed him over the edge, but I think he's always hated me in a way. Why else would he treat me the way he has? It is unnerving to be hated by your father. How do you stop yourself from questioning why? Most people would dismiss it as some fatal flaw within Dan, and hey, he has a ton of those, so what is one more? But it cuts deeper than that for me.

Now more than ever, I have to wonder if the flaw that makes him hate me is mine. It would make sense, in a way. Everyone that was either supposed to love me or actually did love me now hates me. There is no denying in the face of this overwhelming evidence that the fault probably lies within me.

I pull up to Luke's place, which is weird to think of it as such. I never knew Keith very well – Dan wouldn't allow it since Keith took Karen's side and protected Lucas – but this was still always his place. I climb out of the car slowly, looking around. The street is quiet, so of course Luke heard my truck and comes bounding down the steps.

"Hey, you finally got here, man!" He shakes his head as he jogs over to greet me. "Good to see you, Nate."

"Thanks," I manage, giving him a small smile, "Place looks the same as I remember it."

He looks away. "I couldn't stand the thought of changing it after Keith died, you know, so I just left everything the same. I like it this way."

I'm not sure what to say, so I force another uncomfortable smile and feign an interest in the wood of the porch. "Well, it's uh, holding up great," I mumble, even though I have no idea if that is even true or not.

"Well, it isn't perfect, but at least it was Keith's, you know? I've got something of his to hang onto, especially since my mother has crapped all over his memory."

I sigh, not wanting to get into family shit, not now, not really ever. "Well, town looks the same. I almost turned around and drove back the way I came when I was driving past the dealership."

His laugh is tinged with bitterness as he says, "Now you know how I feel every single day."

"Yeah," I nod, "That Dan Scott is good for the population rate of this town, huh? Although, I guess it would only really be true if we actually left, right?"

"Neither of us can leave yet," he tells me. I roll my eyes at him. "Ha," he smirks, "You know, I shouldn't tell you, make you suffer a bit, but I'm just too upstanding of a guy to do that."

"Tell me what?" I ask warily, not entirely trusting of Luke yet, and knowing full well his idea of good things don't always mesh with mine.

"That Haley is in town." I swear, my heart stops. Or at least I stop functioning enough to breathe. Either way, something stops. "She's going to Duke for med school," he informs me, answering my unspoken question. "She stopped by the café a month ago, and I've bumped into her and her friends a few times since. She brought that scary girl with her."

Scary girl? Oh, damn, Brooke's here, too? It's like something good happens, but then something shitty happens immediately to counteract the goodness. "Well, even if Haley would talk to me, she's got Brooke whispering in her ear constantly about what a horrible guy I am."

"Yeah, she seems interesting," he agrees, smirking, "So, when are you going to go see Haley?"

"I think we both know that is none of your business," I retort, irritated that he knows these things that I have no clue on, "I bet she was thrilled to see you."

"Not half as thrilled as she was when I brought up your name."

"Now, why'd you have to go and do that?" I ask with a sigh. Like I need Haley associating anymore things she dislikes with me, and she definitely dislikes Luke.

"Why not?" he shrugs, "It isn't like just mentioning your name could make things worse, right? She didn't seem too happy, though, I have to admit. But that could just be because she was forced to talk to me."

"Ya think?" I ask sarcastically, rolling my eyes, "You're not her favorite person in the world, Luke. I highly doubt that seeing you is ever the highlight of her day."

"Same could be said of you, man," he points out, seemingly finding humor in this situation, "Maybe even I'm more palatable than you these days."

"Yeah, right," I sigh, thinking that is possibly true. I'm not worth much of anything to anyone these days, myself included, and I know that whatever Haley used to see in me is long gone. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. It isn't like she wants to talk to either of us, right?"

"Probably not," he concedes, "But you need to talk to her. So just do it. Show up at her parent's house and pretend like you didn't know she's there or something."

I nod slowly, thinking that might not be such a bad idea. I feel lighter, knowing she's in town. I'm able to hope again, and that's something I know I haven't felt or been capable of in awhile now. Since that morning I ditched her back in her own bed and got out of the apartment like it was on fire.

If there was ever one thing, one single, specific thing that proves what a moronic jerk I am, that's it. There are things that I've done that would probably be considered lower by a lot of people, but none of them were to my best friend. That's what makes that event so awful.

"Maybe I'll do that," I say softly, "Unless Brooke is staying there, too, which seems unlikely, then that's probably my only chance of seeing her without Brooke there."

"Yeah, she's a charmer, isn't she?" he asks, rolling his eyes, "She comes into the café every day. I don't think she has a job."

I snort back a laugh. "I guess she's still living off of mommy and daddy. At least some things never change." I pause, something he says clicking. "Wait. What are you doing working at the café? I thought you were through associating with your mother in any way."

He sighs. "I am. I was. I don't know, there are just rumors running rampant that now that Dan is back with Karen, he's cheating on her already. And I just feel sorry for her in a way."

"I feel sorry for anyone that old bastard comes into contact with," I agree, also thinking it's a shame that Karen fell under his spell again. "That doesn't answer the question of why you're working at the café, though."

He shrugs. "I don't know, I just feel sorry for her. She was blowing the café off to spend time with Dan, and I'm just afraid that when this blows up in her face – which we both know it will – that she'll have nothing. I know that it doesn't seem like it, but I definitely don't want to see her end up with nothing."

"Yeah, I know, man," I assure him, clapping him on the back. "And you know that Karen loves you. I guess she isn't proving it now, but you're lucky to have her."

He shrugs, and I know he's too angry with her to cop to what a great mom she was for him while he was growing up. "She's just so different now. It's like I see her as Dan now, in a way. She's just as bad as he is because she lets him get away with everything."

"Just like my mom did," I point out, feeling bad for him. At least I'm adapted to this type of behavior from parents. This is all new for him.

"Yeah. Well, it sucks, I guess, but what the hell can you do?" I shake my head. "Yeah, I know, nothing. So, there's a new club in town."

"Like a rock collecting club?"

He laughs, "No, like a real club. Dance club, music club, whatever you want to call it. Not too shabby, huh?"

"There's a club in Tree Hill? Dude, do you think I was born yesterday? I'm not dumb enough to fall for something like that. Pick a less obvious one next time."

He laughs out loud as we each grab a few bags out of the truck, finally heading into the house. "I'm not shitting you, Nathan. Some idiot really did open up a club here."

"Please tell me it wasn't Dan," I groan aloud, "Because it would be so like him to open up a place where he could stand around preying on teenage girls. He used to hit on my girl friends, you know?"

"He just gets better and better," Luke responds dryly, "Now he's a pervert, too. Well, a different kind of pervert than I used to think he was. But no, it isn't Dan. I don't know who is doing it, but I know it isn't Dan."

"Why Tree Hill?" I ask again, looking around as we walk into the house. Honestly, I never spent much time here with Keith, but this place hasn't changed one iota since I was here after the funeral. Luke wasn't kidding about keeping things the same.

"Hell if I know," he shrugs, dropping the bags he's carrying onto the floor in the hallway, "But I'm not complaining. I haven't been yet, but it wouldn't hurt to check it out, right?"

I shrug, agreeing that it couldn't hurt. But a club in Tree Hill is – well, a club in Tree Hill. Couldn't possibly be that great. "Yeah, we can check it out sometime, but not tonight. I'm tired from the drive."

"Sure, no problem. I think I'm going to go over to the café tonight and relieve the poor girl that Mom overworks and underpays," he mutters with disgust, "She pays her minimum wage, and the girl closes for her at least four nights a week, and this is on days she opens, too. I sneak her extra money out of the till because she deserves more."

I shake my head, sort of feeling bad for him that Dan has taken something else from him. No, someone else. "Mind if I hang out here then?" I ask, not all that comfortable being alone in this place that holds the life of an uncle I never really knew.

"No, go ahead. The James' place isn't so far away, though. I could drop you off on my way to the diner."

"Nothing in this town is far away from anything else," I remind him, "And I don't know. I just don't know if I'm ready to see Haley yet."

"You've put it off for almost three months, Nathan," he points out, rightfully so, "And is the idea of approaching her getting any easier? Does it seem like if you wait longer she'll be more willing to hear you out?"

"No, of course not," I sigh tiredly, rubbing the heels of my hands over my eyes, "But it doesn't seem like it will be any easier if I do it today, either."

"Don't be such a coward," he orders, "Just go find her and tell her you're sorry. It's bullshit that you let this go on as long as it has. Take some responsibility for your actions, and prove to her that you're sorry."

"I don't know how, Luke! God, you make it sound like it is the easiest thing in the world or something! Like there is a manual somewhere that tells you exactly how to have a conversation like that. But I don't know how, I don't know how I'm ever supposed to make what I did right between us because I know I acted like an ass!"

He sighs, nodding slowly. "Nathan, I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life, but what do you have to lose? You don't have basketball. It doesn't seem like you have any friends. I know you don't have a job. What's left? Your really solid relationship with me? Is that supposed to get you through the rest of your life?"

"I don't know, maybe I'm just supposed to have nothing. I don't know. I don't know anything! Why can't you just let this go and let me figure things out on my own?"

"Because you don't even try," he mutters, looking at me with pity, "I accused you before of being willing to throw it all away, but I didn't realize how right I was."

"I don't want to get into this with you again. You think you know me, you think you know what's good for me and what I should do? Well, you're wrong."

"No, I'm not," he shakes his head, "And something funny happened along our little path of hatred – I do know you, and I do know you better than probably only one person. Of course, that one person is apparently worth so little to you that you won't even try to fix things with her, so I don't know what to tell you. Just know that I get you, that I understand what you're doing, and I think its bullshit."

I don't have to ask what he means by that because I just know. We stare at each other for a few minutes before he shakes his head and grabs his keys, walking out of the house. I stand in the same spot as he fires up the old Mustang of Keith's that Lucas finished in his honor after his death and roars out of the driveway.

As his car races down the street, I shake my head at my own stubbornness. Here I am, a guest in his house, and I pick a fight with him. Not that he wouldn't – and didn't - do it to me, but I owe him a lot right now. But I'm just a jerk at the end of the day, and I'm stupid enough to bite that hand that is basically feeding me.

And he's right, again, about Haley. It is never going to be easy to face her, not after the way I effectively trashed our relationship. But that doesn't mean that I can avoid it forever, especially since we're both in Tree Hill, and news like that travels quickly around here. Hell, half the town probably knows I'm in town already, and the other half will know by morning.

So, in effect, I have to do what Lucas suggested tonight if I have even a shot in hell of surprising her. And again, he's right in that surprise is my biggest – no, only – advantage in this thing. So I'm going to do it. I'm going over to her parent's house, and I'm going to make her listen to my apologies. I have to try, he's right. I'd never forgive myself if I didn't.

It's a nice late summer day, so I decide to walk. Like Luke said, it's close by, and maybe Haley won't be able to hide if she saw my truck in the driveway. I'm just afraid that she'll run away or try to avoid me. Not that I blame her, but this one time I need her to stay put while I am so determined on this one.

When I get to her street, I stand at the corner I'm on and stare at her house for a few minutes. It is every bit as perfect as I remembered it being, even though a lot has changed. It is brown now, and I bet that Lydia just decided one day that she was tired of the white with the navy blue border and bought a ton of paint and just started painting like it wasn't a big deal. The trees in the front yard are bigger, which seems like a funny thing to notice, but I notice it nonetheless.

I gather what is left of my tattered and torn and fleeting courage, and force myself to walk up the path to the front door. I knock loudly, and Lydia surprises me by opening it almost immediately.

"Nathan!" she exclaims, "What a pleasant surprise! I didn't know you were in town, how long are you here for?"

I let her pull me down so that she can throw her arms around my neck, holding me tight. I hug her back, relishing the feeling of comfort that this woman who is not mine in any way always gives me. "I'm not sure yet, Lydia," I tell her honestly, "Luke nagged me into coming, and since nothing else was really working, I figured it was a good time, you know?"

She sighs, pulling away from me. "We heard about what happened with the draft," she tells me, looking sympathetic but not pitying, which is a pleasant change, "And I'm just really glad you're home now."

"Thanks," I smile, genuinely happy to see her. Happy for the first time in months. "It's really good to see you, to be here."

"You know that you are always welcome here, no matter what." She looks at me inquiringly. "Now, what are you going to do about this little rift between you and Hales?"

I know that my surprise is registering on my face because she pats my arm reassuringly. "I'm surprised she mentioned it," I tell her honestly.

She shrugs. "She didn't have to say anything. I know her, and I know you, too. But – well, let's just say that I hope you fix things with her."

I nod, smiling my thanks. "Is she here?"

She shakes her head, "No, she's at work tonight. She works every night, but she seems to like it, so we haven't put too much pressure on her to give it up yet."

Yet? "So, um, does she work somewhere that would be possible for me to drop in on her at?" I ask hesitantly.

She smiles. "You know, you're still very much like you were when you first started coming around here in some ways."

"Are you calling me a six year old? And is that a yes or a no?" I press, winking at her.

"That's a yes, Nathan. She's working at that odd new club on the west end of town. She's waiting tables, actually."

I raise an eyebrow at this. "Really? Huh, I guess some things change, huh? She must've really needed a job."

An odd look crosses her face, but it passes quickly and she chuckles. "So you also remember her insistence that she'd never be a waitress or some other equally menial employee?"

I want to ask what the look was, but I let it go and laugh with her. "Yeah, she told me once that it was stupid that I wished my mom was the one with the café and not Karen because then I'd have to work there."

She shakes her head, "That's my snobby youngest daughter. Always thought she had it all figured out. I wasn't sure if she'd ever realize that not everything can be planned in advance."

"It's a good thing she's so good at pulling things together, huh?" I return, wondering what unplanned event could possibly have her working as a waitress.

"You should go on over there, Nathan. It sounds like her boss is pretty – what is it you kids say? Cool?"

I laugh. "You can't fool me, I know you're more up on the lingo than I am," I tell her, winking. "And thanks, I think I will head on over there."

We chat for a few more minutes before I leave, jogging back to Luke's to get my truck. The nerves that had abated while chatting with Lydia are back full force, but I ignore them, and head over there anyway.

It's a quick drive, of course, so I'm here quickly. I sit in the truck for a minute, trying to think of something to say that won't make her dump a tray of ice cold beverages on me, but I can't come up with anything that doesn't seem overly stupid.

I grab my wallet and head inside, taking a seat at the bar. I don't see her right away, so I take the time to order a coke. Alcohol doesn't seem the way to go tonight, all things considered. I finally spot her taking the orders of a table full of girls. She stops on her way over here to chat with a blonde girl who looks like she works here, too. They laugh together, and she looks so relaxed that I'm almost tempted to just leave so that I don't ruin her good mood.

She spots me, and her face falls. I look away, hating that look of shock and anger and something else that flashes over her face. It's obvious that not only did she not expect to see me, but that she probably doesn't want to see me, either. I could be the nice guy and accept that, and leave, but I was never that guy. So I stay put on my barstool, waiting to see what she'll do.

To my surprise, she walks toward me after saying something to the girl she was talking to. She doesn't run over in happiness – it's a slow walk, filled with apprehension. But she doesn't run away, either, and I'll take what I can get. Even if it is just crumbs right now.

"Nathan," she says softly in way of greeting me, "I – um, I didn't expect to see you here." The confusion is evident on her face. "I tried to call you, but all your numbers were disconnected."

She tried to contact me? Somehow, that's a little hard to believe. "Well, I've been bumming around jobless, so I had my cell turned off."

She nods. "I didn't know you were in town."

"Just got here," I sigh, uncomfortable with the awkward formality between us, but I can't complain because it is better than I expected and more than I deserve. "I'm staying with Luke. He thinks he can fix my life, even fix me," I shrug, inwardly cursing myself for telling her that useless bit of information.

Her eyes flash in recognition, and I wonder what the hell Lucas has been telling her. "Look, Nathan, we need to talk, but this – this isn't the place."

I nod, completely willing to concede anything to her if it means she'll talk to me, even for a few minutes. Even if it is awkward and stilted and uncomfortable like it is now. "You name the time and place, and I'll be there."

She just stares at me for a second, almost like she's trying to see a crack in the words I'm saying to find the truth of why I'm here. "Let me go talk to Peyton, my boss," she says, pointing to the blonde she was talking with earlier, "It's pretty slow tonight, so she might let me get out of here now."

I nod, watching as she goes. There is no way in hell right now that I want to take my eyes off of her, so I just blatantly stare as she walks across the room. I know I'm staring, and I feel like a retard for it, but I can't help it. She's here, she's agreed to talk to me, and I'm not letting her out of my sight. No way, no how.

The blonde glances over at me in surprise, and I wonder briefly what Haley has told her about me. The girl isn't someone I recognize, so it stands to reason she's fairly new here. Haley looks over at me, too, but I can't tell from her expression what she is thinking right now. The girl pats her kindly on the arm, and Haley laughs at something she said and then walks back over to me.

"Um, she said it was fine if I go now. My parents are both probably home right now, so I guess we could just take a walk or something."

She doesn't look thrilled by the suggestion, so I figure offering an alternative is the least I could do. "Luke is working at the café tonight, so if you'd rather, we can go over there."

She tilts her head to the side, almost as if she's weighing the options we have right now. "Yeah, that's probably for the best. I need to sit down anyway," she sighs.

"Long day?" I ask cautiously, not wanting to be too pushy or invasive right now, and scare her away now that we're finally talking.

"No, it's the – well, I'm just tired," she says, giving me a wan smile, "Sitting sounds really good right about now."

"Yeah, well, that's not a problem. It seems like Luke has kept the place pretty clean, so we should be able to find somewhere to sit."

"Okay, good," she agrees quietly, obviously lost in her own thoughts. "I'm hoping you drove since Peyton picked me up."

"Yeah, I've got my truck. Your mom said this place was on the edge of town and that I'd be better off driving than walking."

"You saw my mom?" I nod. "So, you came here purposely to find me?"

"Yeah, I really have no other good reason to go to a club, right?"

We get in the truck. She looks over at me. "That never stopped you before," she points out, rightly, "You always liked a trip to a good club."

"Tree Hill isn't known for its good clubs," I remind her, "And it's my first night here. I'm tired from the drive, and nothing at a club held any appeal for me right now. Until I found out that's where you were."

"Nathan, come on," she sighs.

"No, I mean it, Haley," I assure her as I pull the truck out onto the road, hurrying towards Luke's place. "I just wanted to see you, even if you don't want to see or talk to me."

She looks at me oddly, but doesn't say anything to argue with me. She looks decidedly nervous, which is strange to me, since I'm the one who has the major groveling to do. I'm the one with everything – her - to lose.

"Luke lives at Keith's place?" she asks, blinking in surprise as I pull into the driveway. "Has he been here ever since?"

"He moved in when Karen started seeing Dan again." I shake my head, trying to clear the thought out of my mind. "It's weird here. He didn't change anything."

The irritated expression she always gets at the thought, sight, or mention of Lucas sort of softens. "He's still pretty broken up over it."

I nod as we climb out of the truck. "I'm beginning to think he'll never let himself move past it. He'll always have that survivor's guilt to carry around."

She nods, walking up the steps. "We all have our baggage – that's his. Almost makes me feel sorry for the slimy little brat."

I stop in front of the door. "Why do you hate him so much? You never told me," I remind her, completely unsure why I'm bringing that up when we have so many more important things to discuss.

"Does that really matter now?" she asks, getting to the heart of the matter, "I think we both have way more important things to say to each other than why I think your brother is scum."

I nod, knowing she's right. I don't say anything, though, just unlock the door and let us in the house. She looks around, curious. "There's nothing of Lucas in here," I tell her again, "Its all Keith. He never changed anything."

"Yeah," she says softly, "I can tell. This place doesn't exactly scream twenty-something guy, you know?"

"I know. So, um," I begin, looking around nervously, "Want something to drink? I bet Luke has beer and stuff."

She looks away. "No, thanks, I'm good."

"Okay," I sigh, my nerves starting to get the better of me, "Well, want to sit down?" She nods, looking relieved, and sits down on a chair. "Okay, well, I guess I should start."

She shakes her head. "Honestly, Nathan, I know what you're going to say, and that is really not the most important thing we have to discuss tonight." She draws her knees up to her chest, and she looks so small and tired and fragile sitting there that I just want to pull in my arms and hold her.

"I need to apologize again, Hale, I need you to hear and understand and know that I'm so sorry I hurt you. I just can't sit here and listen while you cut me out of your life without telling you all of these things!"

She laughs, but it isn't tinged in the least with humor. "Nathan, even if I wanted to, I couldn't cut you out of my life now." Those words should give me comfort, but there is something in her voice that scares me. "Look, there isn't really an easy way of saying this – "

"Haley, come on, don't say it!" I exclaim, "Whatever it is, don't say it. I will fix things, I promise you, I will fix every mistake I've made, every hurt I've caused."

"Nathan," she sighs, "Please let me finish. Because this is going to be really hard to say, and I just need to come right out and say it so we can start dealing with it."

I want to protest – everything in me screams that I should keep her from saying whatever it is she has to say, but I can't. I have to let her speak her piece. "Okay, say it," I choke out, my voice barely more than a strangled whisper.

She rests her chin on her knees. "God, this is hard," she sighs, wrapping her arms tighter around herself, "I don't even know how to say it."

I lean forward from my spot on the couch, reaching out to touch her on the knee. "Hey, its okay, Haley, just spit it out for me, okay?"

She laughs a little. "You think this is easy, don't you? Or that it should be, anyway. You don't get how huge this is, how life-changing."

"Now, I'm confused," I admit, my hand still on her knee. "Help me out here, Hales, tell me what's going on."

She looks up, her eyes shining with tears, and my heart clutches in fear in response. "I'm pregnant, Nathan."

There are a lot of things she could've said that would have really surprised me, but this one – this doesn't even register. I hear the words, but my neurons apparently don't have the capability of firing in a way that makes what she said understandable. She is staring at me now, obviously waiting for a response.

"I see," I drawl out slowly, not sure what else there is for me to say.

She just keeps staring at me in a way that makes me want to check my face and make sure nothing is crawling on it. "You see?" she repeats, dumbfounded, "What exactly do you see? Do you see that I'm getting fat, but that there's a logical explanation? Do you see that because of this, my whole life will change? Do you get that, Nathan?"

Shit. I can't do or say anything right with her. "Haley, I just – I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry." I don't even know what to say to her right now, I don't even know what to think right now, for that matter.

She shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I just – this is really hard, Nathan, and I know I'm dealing with it poorly, but I shouldn't take it out on you."

I nod, barely hearing her. Haley's pregnant. She's having a _baby._ A baby. Oh, my God, **my** baby? I glance up at her, croaking out, "Mine?"

"Yeah, yours. Ours. Whatever," she sighs.

"Well," I say after another long, uncomfortable pause, "I think that's the last thing in the world I expected you to say." She looks over at me, trying to gauge what I'm thinking and feeling. "I think if you'd brought me here to tell me that you and Brooke were getting married I'd have been less surprised."

To my surprise, and obviously hers, she lets out a giggle. "Sorry," she apologizes, "I know it's not really funny, but you know."

I nod. "Yeah, I know. Sometimes you just can't help but laugh, right?" She nods back at me. "I – I didn't think you were getting fat," I offer awkwardly, but honestly. I really hadn't noticed any change to her body, and I'd looked, too.

"Maybe the tests were wrong then," she sniffles with a smile, "But I don't think I'm that lucky, huh?"

For once in my life, I just know that there is no right thing for me to say to that, and I manage to keep my mouth shut. It is practically a miracle. Instead of saying anything, I grab her hands, clasping them tightly in my own larger ones.

"I'm sorry," she mutters again, although I'm not sure exactly what she means when she says that. I squeeze her hands, willing her to look at me. "I'm really sorry."

"For what?" I finally ask, not knowing any other way to get around this wall between us. "Why are you sorry, baby?"

"Because," she wails, pulling away from me and standing up. For the first time, I can actually see signs of her pregnancy. Her abdomen is rounded slightly, and her breasts are fuller. She looks, well, good, but I don't think I'm supposed to mention it now.

"Because, why, Hales?" I stand up, putting my hands on her shoulders to keep her from moving away from me.

"Because, Nathan, this makes everything different. This changes every aspect of my – maybe yours, too – life. Okay? This is a permanent thing that completely redefines normal!"

I nod slowly. I can feel panic setting in, but if there is any one thing I cannot express to Haley right now, it's that. She's too close to panicking herself, probably from stress of telling me, for me to put my panic off on her.

"I'm scared, too," I finally whisper, thinking that I had to say something. Her head snaps up as she stares at me in shock. "What? You think I can't feel the gravity of this situation?" I ask, pulling my hands off of her and moving away. I suppose I don't deserve her faith, but it still cuts to know that I don't have it.

She shakes her head. "I don't know, Nathan. I thought you'd be mad or frustrated or dismissive, but I didn't think you'd be like this."

"Like what?" I ask, my voice low and dangerous.

"Like this, all – Jesus, Nathan, I don't know."

"You thought I wouldn't care, didn't you?" I accuse, knowing I'm exactly right, "You thought I'd leave you high and dry the second you told me!"

"I didn't say that, Nathan," she mutters tiredly.

I turn back around, looking pointedly at her. "You didn't have to say it, Haley. It's pretty clear what you thought I'd do."

"Fine, maybe I wasn't sure how you'd react, and maybe I thought you'd be a dick about it. You can't say I don't have a reason to think that, you know."

I sit back down, defeated. She's right, she is absolutely right. I've given her no indication that I'd be there for her in a situation like this, and it isn't fair of me to expect that she should think the best of me. I don't deserve that at all.

"I'm sorry," she offers after a few minutes of silence. "I just – I didn't know, Nathan. God, I was barely able to deal with it myself, and in some ways, I think it is more real for me than you. So I just thought – well, I didn't think."

"Do you – ah, what are your plans?" I ask, knowing that me having a part of this kid's life is by no means a given.

"What do you mean?" she asks warily, "Like am I planning on keeping it? Obviously, I'm almost four months along now."

"Was it ever an option to not keep it?" I ask, curious, "How long have you known you were pregnant? All along?"

"You mean did I know at graduation?" I nod. "No, I didn't," she assures me softly, "I have known for about a month and half now. I found out the night of the draft, if you want a frame of reference."

So, when my life was getting ready to plummet even further into hell, she was finding out that she was pregnant, something that has the power to screw up things between us even worse.

"How did you find out?"

"Jake and I were at the grocery store, and I ran to pick up things for Brooke. One of the things on her list was tampons, and I just – I don't know, it was like this stupid, shocking epiphany that I hadn't needed any in a few months, and that wasn't right. I got out my calendar, I didn't the math, and then I just knew."

"Jake? You were still at school?"

She shakes her head, sighing. "Jake chose Duke for med school, too. He's sharing a house with Brooke right now, here in Tree Hill."

"Yeah, I heard about the Brooke, but didn't know Jake was here, too," I sigh, not sure how I feel about that. I just – I guess a part of me is jealous that he got to be there for some of these things with her, and I wasn't even aware they were going on.

"So, that's how I figured it out. I went home and took a test. Well, two in two days, actually, and then I went and saw Dr. Brown for confirmation. I tried to call you, then, but that was when I found all your numbers disconnected. I would've told you sooner, but I didn't know how to get in touch with you, and I couldn't bring myself to ask Lucas."

"It's okay, I understand," I mutter dully, wondering how many people knew before me, if she really even wanted to tell me in the first place. "If I hadn't come back, would you have told me? Would you have bothered to find me and tell me?"

"I'm not Brooke," she snaps, "And it doesn't matter what advice she'd give me about it – and I think you can figure out what her suggestions were – I still have my own mind. Hell, even if my mind had told me not to tell you, there was no way in hell that my heart would let me do that to you or this kid. So, no, not telling you was never an option for me, and if you hadn't come back, I would've found you somehow."

I nod, barely breathing. "What else?" I ask, my voice sounding lame and pitiful and pleading, "I just want to know what it's been like, who you've told, how they took it. And – and – and what's happened so far. I know I don't have the right to ask these things, but I can't help it."

"Its okay, Nathan, it would be worse if you didn't ask questions, you know?" I nod jerkily, thoughts and feelings and fears rattling around in my head. "Aside from Brooke – who I didn't really want to tell because I knew how she'd take it – and Jake, the only people who know are my family and Peyton, because she's my boss. I can't be a waitress at eight and a half months pregnant, right?"

"How'd your family take it? Do they – do they know that I'm - ?"

She nods. "Yeah, they know. I think – this is so weird, but I think my mom is actually happy. Dad is kind of – he's not mad, but I think he's just really surprised. But he's excited to be a grandfather again. Weird, huh?"

I shake my head. "Weird would be my parents reacting like that. But yours – they've never been the type to freak out, even when things don't go like they'd planned." I sit back down on the couch, and she takes a seat next to me. "What – damn, I don't even know how to ask this, and I don't even know if I have a right to ask this, but what about me? Do I get – am I allowed to - ?"

She turns to me, so that we are facing each other. She doesn't say anything right away, just regarding me keenly, knowingly, and it scares me. That she has to think about it scares me. "Nathan, this – this is your baby, too, right? And I'm not so selfish and bratty that I'd keep you away from it. I hope you know that."

"You mean it?" I ask quietly, not wanting to let myself hope, not wanting to let myself think that maybe – just maybe – things will finally be different.

"It's why I told you," she shrugs, "It wouldn't be fair to either of you for me to make that decision for you. This is going to be hard enough, and I don't want to fight with you over it."

"Okay. Yeah, fighting wouldn't be good," I stammer out haltingly, "So, what happens next? Do you have doctors appointments to go to? Shopping for baby, ah, stuff?" Not surprisingly, I know little about the preparation for babies, although, thanks to Haley's family, I am pretty comfortable with them when they arrive.

She shrugs. "I'm not there yet. I mean, I need to save up some more money so that I can get my own place. My parents don't need me _and_ a baby, right?"

"Somehow, I doubt they'd mind all that much," I tell her, but I can understand her desire for her own space, especially with a baby.

"No, they probably wouldn't," she agrees, "But I just need that extra freedom, I guess." She shakes her head. "I sound like an ingrate, and I'm really not. My parents are great, and I'm lucky as can be."

We fall silent for a minute, each lost in the confines of our own thoughts. "So, we're actually talking again," I finally say, hating the silence. Silence is all I've known for months now, basically, and I hate it. I hate how consuming it is, how it leaves you alone with only your own thoughts.

She looks at me oddly. "I guess we are."

"Sorry," I apologize, feeling stupid for ruining whatever bit of peace and common ground we'd achieved, "It just felt strange after all this time of not talking to you."

She nods. "Well, for me, that felt stranger than anything else."

That comment cheers me slightly, makes me think that, even aside from the baby, there is a chance for us to rebuild our relationship. Obviously there will be something between us now, a child, but I've seen firsthand relationships that are based on only that, and that is not what I want for us. I want our friendship back, I want her to love me again. She was always the only one.

"That was the worst," I tell her.

"Oh, Nathan, come on, it couldn't have been that bad for you. It isn't like you don't have a ton of friends and girls and whatever to keep you busy."

I regard her for a minute, noting how earnest she seems, before saying anything. "That's really all you see in me, isn't it? That I'm just a jerk who has conned some people into being my friend, and that I just use girls on general principle? Because I can? Thanks a lot, Haley."

She shakes her head, glaring at me. "Why should I think differently? That is exactly the image that you projected for four years at college, and for four years of high school before that! What have you done that would contradict that persona?"

"You don't know the first thing about me, do you?" She opens her mouth to retort, but I press on, not letting her interrupt me. "You think I have friends? Who, Haley, who? None of them were really friends! They dropped as soon as the NBA did, alright? And girls? Yeah, I've screwed that aspect of my life up, and badly. But let's face facts, okay? They aren't exactly hanging all over a washed up former college basketball player, right? So, I have nothing, no one, except, in the most fucked up twist of fate ever, I have Luke."

Her mouth is still hanging open. "You – you," she begins, stuttering in shock, "I cannot believe you! You had friends, Nathan. You had some damn fine friends, if I do say so myself! And you threw it all away. You could've had anything, done anything, and you messed up. Don't put that off on me!"

"I wasn't putting anything off on you."

"Bullshit," she says hotly, "You said I know nothing about you! I know almost everything about you, Nathan Scott! I don't always understand you, but I know you."

"I'm not so sure about that," I sigh, "You pushed me away for years, Hales. After everything we went through growing up together, you kept me at arm's length all through college. How can you really know me when you haven't even wanted to for so long?"

"You are ridiculously full of yourself," she retorts, crossing her arms over her chest angrily, "Maybe it had nothing to do with you, per se, and all to do with me exploring the world outside you."

I nod, tired and unwilling to go through this right now. Everything about today has been hard already, and having her pontificate on what a raging disappointment I am would be icing on the cake, but I hate frosting.

"You know what? You're right, I'm worthless and I screwed up everything good in my life. Yeah, I said it, I did. And now, now I'll just go."

She stares at me, again open-mouthed as I get up from my spot on the sofa and walk out the front door. I hear her footsteps behind me as I walk down the porch steps, looking around in a daze, not sure where to go.

"This is your, well, this is Luke's place, you can't leave," she says, chasing after me and grabbing my arm, "Besides, you can't just walk out on me now! We – we've barely talked about this whole baby thing, and there are a million things related to that needing to be discussed. And you're really going to just run away now?"

"I'm not running away, Haley. We're going to have a thousand and one discussions about this – the baby, I mean, sooner or later. It's just – right now, I can't do this." I snort in disgust at myself. "Luke was right, I am weak and pathetic. Look, I just got back here, and I hate almost everything about it here. My parents, my history with Luke, the accident, there's just – " I stop, unable to continue on.

Her stubborn, angry expression softens and fades. "Yeah, okay, I know. I just wanted to discuss everything with you, but there's plenty of time."

"I'm sorry," I tell her sincerely, "I'm sorry about a lot of things, one of the least of which is taking off now."

"You know what? This need to leave, need to get your thoughts settled about being back here, that's something I understand. So, go," she says simply.

"You know I'm not running away from you, from the things we have to discuss, right? I know there are a ton of them, and I know I have a lot to answer for. I want to, I do. Now just doesn't work for me."

She sighs, but nods. "Yeah, I know. And there are discussions we need to have, and there are things we both need to say that the other won't like. But I think we've said a lot today, and maybe everything else can wait for a little while. There will be a lot of time for us to have many, many more discussions and many, many painful subjects that neither of us really want to have."

"I'd really appreciate that."

"I'd better go anyway. Peyton and Jake are hanging out tonight, and since Brooke is out of town, I can actually join them." I look at her questioningly. "Brooke and Peyton were best friends when they were little, and now, well, they aren't. Brooke thinks Peyton screwed her over." Oh, the parallels. "Brooke flips whenever Peyton's name is mentioned now, so we can hang out without the baggage this week."

I could say a ton of nasty things about Brooke, but I doubt that'd do me any favors, so I again keep my mouth shut on yet another subject. "I hope you have fun with your friends tonight."

She nods. "I hope you figure out what it is you need to figure out about being back here. Don't let your parents get you down."

"Can we meet for breakfast or something tomorrow maybe? I understand if you can't, of course, but you must be getting busy with school."

"Yeah, that'd be good. There's definitely a lot we need to talk about."

"Oh, shit, Haley, do you need a ride back to your parent's place? Or to wherever you're going?" I ask, feeling like an ass that I forgot I drove her over here.

She shakes her head. "You know how close my house is. I'll just go ahead and walk, the fresh air will do me good."

"Uh, are you sure you should be walking in your condition? You're almost four months pregnant," I remind her, as if she could possibly forget or something.

She laughs, and for the first time of the night, something that one of us has done or said is completely genuine and honest. "I'm not helpless, Nathan. Hell, it's not even that noticeable that I'm pregnant, right? I can walk the few blocks to my parent's house. Go ahead and take care of yourself, I'm fine."

She is, I note as she walks off. She's fine without me. I think I knew that all along, but seeing it is a different story, as with everything. Needing to clear my head, I walk off in the opposite direction down towards the water.

There is some tranquility to be found there, and when even that is missing, the sound of the water lapping at the shore can drown out my inner monologue. This has always been a sanctuary for me, ever since I can remember. The one place I could escape my parents and the fighting and the smothering expectations of greed and pride.

Greed and pride. The only two reasons that I've ever been able to come up with that Dan took even the slightest bit of interest in me. The greed came in when he thought that maybe I'd make the money off of basketball that he never could, and the pride was in the accolades _he _received from my basketball, as if he had anything to do with other than a few shared genes.

I pick up a handful of rocks and chuck them one by one into the calm water. If this was four years ago, Haley would be here with me, and I would coax her into going swimming. But it isn't, and even if she were here, I doubt I could. Hell, since she's pregnant, I doubt I should.

I know just like the rest of the world that things change. I've always known that, but somehow that knowledge hasn't prepared me for how profoundly different things are from the last time I was here.

"_Go to Hell, you ungrateful little shit," Dan sneers at me, "I've given you the highest quality of life possible, and this is how you treat me? Where do you get off?"_

"_Probably the same place that you do," I yell back drunkenly, "After all, I learned it all from you, Dan."_

"_Don't you dare disrespect me like that!" he seethes. I watch in fascination as his face turns a purple-y red color and the veins in his neck start to stand out. "I raised you, and just between you and me, I didn't have to. I could've chose Lucas instead, so you ought to consider yourself lucky, Nathaniel."_

_I laugh aloud at this, but not with humor. "Oh, yeah, that's a touching story. You _chose_ me. You chose me like you choose whether or not to put sugar in your coffee. It was just an offhand decision because at that moment, you liked Mom better than you liked Karen. And that had nothing to do with me."_

_He steps closer to me, within striking distance now. When I was younger, his abuse was never physical, but as I've grown older and more fearless – no, reckless, frequently our altercations end with grabbing and shoving._

"_You're pathetic, Nathaniel," he says, his voice dropping low, "And you're just beginning to prove just how pathetic you are. It's sad, really."_

_Against my better judgment, I ask, "What's sad?"_

"_You, your pathetic assertions that you have an understanding of me, and most of all, the fact that you think you're different and better. You're not, and you never will be. Ever. You'll never be the best, Nathan, no matter what. You are far too weak and soft."_

"_Maybe that doesn't matter, Dan. Maybe I'm not a pathetic shell of a man who has to measure his worth based on what other people think. Maybe I have more than you ever will already. But there is one thing that will never be a maybe in my mind – I already have way more than you ever could, and I know I won't be stupid enough to throw it all away." I step towards him so that we are almost nose to nose. _

"_You can tell yourself that now, but you have that giggly little friend of yours hanging around all the time. I've seen how she looks at you, how you look at her when you think no one is watching. You'll be lucky if you don't end up in the exact same place. Don't think you have the smarts to stay out of it, because you don't."_

"_Never talk about her again," I yell hotly, shoving him away from me, "I won't make your mistakes, and I will never be like you."_

_I turn and walk off, but his whisper on the wind carries to me. "You already are."_

The more I think of that night, that goddamn night that Dan and I had our first full-out argument where neither of us held back, the tenser and angrier I get. Every meeting between us after that was worse – harsher words, physical blows. There is no going back now, not that I ever would want to.

And now he's right, I'm like him. Now isn't the time for me to have realized that, either, since I just found out I'm going to be a father. How can I be in this kid's life when I already know what I'm like? Is that fair? How can I put a kid in the position that I was in growing up? There is no guarantee that I can stop myself from becoming Dan, even as a father.

It's scary. Fucking terrifying, actually. Knowing that I could do the same things to this kid, make him or her feel the ways my parents made me feel is devastating.

"_He told me I was him, Haley, that I had turned into him," I relay to her, the panic I'm feeling evident in my voice._

_She reaches over and grabs my hand, squeezing tightly. "God, Nathan, you are nothing like him. Nothing! He is a sick, sick man with nothing better to do than mess with your head. Don't let him, don't let him in! I know it's hard for you, but you have to keep him out, okay?"  
_

"_I don't know how," I confess, trying to choke back the sobs threatening to bubble to the surface, "I don't know how to ignore him."_

"_Okay, so then you don't," she says, laying her head on my shoulder, snuggling her body against my own as her arms sneak around my waist, "So you'll listen to me instead and I will drown him out for you, and you'll know that I think that there is no one better than you in this entire world. That there is no one I'd rather spend my time with than you. You are way too good to let him bring you down."_

_I don't deserve her kind words. I know this, and maybe she knows it, too. But one glance down at her convinces me otherwise. She looks straight into my eyes and doesn't flinch. She even smiles at me, and gives me a look almost like she's proud of me. _

"_What would I do without you?" I murmur, kissing her on the top of her head._

"_You'll never have to find out," she whispers back, wrapping her arms tighter around me. "You've got me forever, Nathan. I'll always be here."_

"_I'm scared," I admit after a lengthy bit of companionable silence, "I'm scared that it is always going to be like this."_

"_Like what?" she asks, her hand stroking soothing circles on my back._

"_That Dan is always going to be on my back, always bringing me down, you know? I don't know how to get out from under him, how to stop him from bringing me down. I think that's what he wants," I tell her seriously._

_She nods. "I think that is what he's trying to do, too. And you just can't let him. Nathan, you are so much better than him that it is ridiculous. And I hate that bastard – I hate him – for trying to bring you down to his level. It isn't fair, and it isn't right. But that's what he is, and that's what you can't let him do to you." She brushes some hair off of my forehead. "And I'm here for you, to do whatever it is that you need to make sure you don't let him."_

_I wrap my arms around, dropping another kiss on her head. "You know that you're just about everything to me, right?" She looks up and gives me a smile that is tinged with something akin to irony, but at this point I ignore that. I just want to say this, to let her know how important she is to me. "You are, you're the only one I trust with everything. The only thing that I would ever hate to lose, Hales."_

"_I know, Nathan. And you know that means a lot to me, and you also know that I feel the same way. You're my best friend, I love you."_

_I shake my head, though. There is no way that she could possibly feel the same way. It's just different for her. She has a big family – hell, she just has a real family – that loves and supports her, and for that reason, she'll never really understand where I come from with regards to my parents and the rest of my family._

"_You don't think I understand, do you?" she asks softly, her hand sliding down my arm to clasp mine and squeeze it tightly._

"_I know you do as well as anyone outside of my family can, but thank God you're just not close enough to really see how they are, how things are."_

_She thinks about it for a moment before nodding. "But I know you, and I've seen him and even your mom, and the way they treat you, or in her case, ignore you. I know what that does to you. I know I'm the only one you let see that."_

_I think we could talk about this forever, and never truly understand or figure out a satisfactory answer or solution. And frankly, I'm getting tired of talking about it, and I'm even more tired of thinking about it. So I disentangle myself from her warm, sweet arms, and jump up, pasting a goofy grin on my face. She can see through it, and we both know that, but we both also know that sometimes you have to let the hard stuff go._

"_We're too young to be sitting around discussing shit like that," I inform her, grabbing her hand, "You better take off that sweatshirt because we are going swimming."_

"_No. No way, Nathan!" she exclaims as I strip down to my boxers, "It is freezing in that water! It is only June, have you lost your mind? It hasn't had time to warm up yet!"_

_She squeals as I tug on the sleeves of her sweatshirt. "Come on, Hales. You know one way or another you're getting in there. now, I can throw you in with your sweatshirt on, but you might be awfully cold when we're done and you have nothing dry to wear."_

"_You are an evil, evil person, Nathan Scott!" She pulls her sweatshirt off and sprints down towards the water. "Last one in buys the winner a latte!"_

"_Hey, you cheat!" I yell, laughing as I chase after her, "I'll get you for that one, little Haley James!"_

_For the rest of the night, I let all my troubles with Dan and my mother and even Lucas and the rest of the family melt away. What's the point of worrying about them when there is nothing I can do to change it now?_

I let the rocks fall from my hands, wondering how I got from there, where I had so much, to here, where I'm not sure exactly what, if anything, I have left.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. When we went to college, it was supposed to be fun and exciting, but most importantly, it was supposed to be the time that was just for us. A part of me always realized that a time would come when Haley would find some guy, and she'd marry him and have two point five kids and a big German shepherd or whatever it is that people are doing these days.

I didn't think that we'd be so far about now, though, and not because I was stupid enough to let us grow apart. And even more stupid in that I let myself push things to a point where things stopped bending and just broke.

And that's where we are now, broken. Broken, and with a whole passel of baggage to try and sort through and figure, which is beginning to feel downright impossible. Especially now, in the dark of night, standing on the same beach that I stood on and played on and laughed on and cried on so many times growing, the weight of that impossibility is a burden I can't shake.

There's a baby involved now. Unplanned, unexpected, but surprisingly not unwelcome, at least by me. Maybe a baby would be the first person to accept the unconditional love that I have to give. My parents never wanted nor cared about it, Haley got to the point where she either didn't want it or stopped needing it, and there was never really anyone else to try with.

A baby, though, a baby is my chance to prove to everyone, myself most of all in some ways, that I'm not Dan. That I'm better than Dan, and that he didn't turn me into his clone. I want this, and I want to do it right, but I don't know if I can. I don't know if all the years I spent with Dan have made me into something that I can't get away from, especially now that I've acted like him in many ways.

"Scott," a deep voice calls from behind me. I turn around, pretty surprised to see Jake. "A little birdie told me I could probably find you here."

I nod. "This is the one place in this town I can always seem to come back to, no matter what shitty things happen here." I sit down on a log, listening to the weeds of the dunes swish in the light breeze. "What are you doing out here? Haley send you here to tell me to back off or something?" I ask, only half joking. It could happen.

"Nah," he says as he takes a seat next to me, leaning down to rest his elbows on his knees, "I just thought I'd come say hi or something. Besides, I think Haley and Peyton like each other better than they like me, so whatever."

I raise an eyebrow at him. I'm not sure why we're both being so casual right now, but I'll take it. "You like this Peyton?"

He nods. "Yeah, she's just got something about her that I really like. But she's been burned in the past, and she doesn't seem all that interested in starting anything. So I don't know," he finishes with a shrug.

"Everything is up in the air," I agree, sighing.

"How you feeling? Haley, uh, she told me she told you."

I glance over at him, trying to gauge his reaction to that. "Yeah, she told me. It's um, surprising, I guess. I don't know what I'm supposed to think or feel."

"How are you with everything else?" he asks, and I get that he probably doesn't want to talk about Haley and the baby since he is really their friend first now.

"You mean basketball?" I surmise, sighing when he nods, "I fucked that up, too. You hear what happened?"

He nods. "Well, I heard the story that was put out there, I guess," he amends, "But I know that what is fed to the media isn't always the real story. So, what happened?"

"Want to hear something shitty, but not completely unsurprising? What happened was actually worse than the story they put out there. How's that for really, really bad?" I ask, deadpan, trying not to let this be as serious as it is.

"Worse than failing a steroids test?" he asks, surprised. I nod. "God, not a girl, tell me it wasn't some girl that you wrecked this over."

I shake my head. "No, not a girl. Alcohol, and for the first time, marijuana. I bet most people who only know me a little bit think that I smoke weed all the time, but that was the first, man."

"God, you are more of a fuck up than anyone else I've ever known. How do you do that?" he asks incredulously, "It's like you have goals of doing shit like that or something. Did they catch you smoking the weed at tryouts? At the pre-draft parties? What happened, man, how stupid were you?"

"One of the guys I met there, he had some. We smoked his, and I volunteered to go find a dealer and get some more. What I ended up finding, though, was an undercover cop who hates over-privileged shits like me."

"Yeah, shocking how that happens," he sighs, "You really tried to buy drugs from an undercover cop? How in the hell did they keep that out of the papers?"

"The NBA didn't want any scandals marring the draft this year. It was easily provable who I'd been smoking with, and since he was a first round pick, they agreed to circulate a different story. I agreed to the steroids bullshit, but on some level, I deserve having that shit out there about me. It isn't that far off, is it?"

"I don't get you, man," he sighs, "What the hell were you thinking? Anything at all? God, Nathan, you can't keep yourself out of trouble for a month, and now you're going to be a father. Jesus Christ, you can't handle your own damn life, and now you're going to share responsibility for someone else's? That's fucked up."

"Yeah, like I don't know that? Like I don't know that I have so many issues and insecurities and other problems that I probably shouldn't be allowed within a hundred yards of any kids? Well, guess what, I know that, and ever since she told me, all I can think of is whether or not I'll be the same horrible parent my parents were. If my kid will hate me as much as I hate them."

"It doesn't have to be that way," he tells me, "But you'd better step up to the plate, Nathan. Haley – okay, she's tough, you know that. But she's not going to take help from her parents or her friends, and we can't force her. But you, you're in the position that you can force her. Don't let her down, don't let this kid down."

"I'm not planning on it," I snap, a little peeved to have him here lecturing me on my duties as a father.

"Yeah, well, a lot of things don't go as planned for you, do they? So I'm just saying that you better get off your ass and do what's right for a change."

I nod. "I'm trying. Well, I'm going to try. But I'm – " I cut off, unable to admit to him that this whole thing scares me, finishing lamely, "I just don't know if I can do this the way it is supposed to be done."

"Don't try, just do it," he commands, "Look, I'm not here to beat you up about this, or make you feel bad. I'm just here to tell you that you really need to do this right. It is your opportunity to fix a lot of the things that you've screwed up, and you've said you wanted that. So do it, Nathan. Just do it."

"What do I do? Haley told me that she'll let me be a part of the kid's life, but there is so much between us now that I don't know if we'll be able to get past that."

He looks up, staring out at the expanse of water in front of us. "No one ever said any of this would be easy, right? And hey, they said it with good reason. It'll be hard, really hard, for both of you. And guess what, you'll probably mess up. I'm sure there will be fights and disagreements, but at the end of the day, I really think you want what she wants – what is best for the kid. And that's why you'll figure it out and make it work."

I laugh humorlessly. "I don't have a job, Jake. I don't really have any prospects, and I'll probably always be seen as that guy that took steroids to prospective employers. Tree Hill isn't really teeming with opportunities, as I'm sure you've figured out."

He smiles in acknowledgement. "No, it isn't. But there are towns close by, and someone's going to have something. You're just going to have to suck it up and take what you can get." I nod, feeling miserable. "Look, man, for what it's worth, I think you can do it. I told Haley that, too, and I told her to never listen to Brooke when she talks about you."

I chuckle, imagining all the wonderful things Brooke probably has to say about me. "Thanks, man. I needed someone who doesn't automatically think I'll wreck this, too."

He nods. "I better get back. I told the girls I'd bring them pizza. Haley is really milking the pregnancy thing for the food service, I'll tell you that."

"How – I mean, okay, how's it been? She told me how she found out, but was she sick? Does she have cravings? Does the baby kick? I don't know any of those things."

He looks at me considering for a minute and then smiles. "You know what? I think Haley will want to tell you all those things." He stands up. "Yeah, she will. Okay, I'm out of here. See you soon, man."

"Yeah, thanks," I mumble, not really paying attention as he leaves. I don't know if it is what he intended, but he's given me hope. A hope that I haven't really had in a long time, but especially not today.


End file.
